


Phantom Wings

by camwelgrace



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Backrubs, Comfort/Angst, Dean being adorable and caring, Depression, Eating Disorder, Fluff, Hickeys, Hozier, Hurt!Cas, Hurt/Comfort, Like extremely adorable, Lots of Angst, M/M, Poptarts, Scars, Self Harm, Sexual Content, Work Song - Hozier, bee farm, depressed!cas, human!Cas, phantom limb (wing) syndrome, phantom pains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 14:00:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3694988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camwelgrace/pseuds/camwelgrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There may have been nightmares about angels, and the ghosts of wings lost, and scars to remind of harder times, but there were also hickeys, and Poptarts, and honeybees, and <i>this.</i></p>
<p>Castiel is human, and having a hard time adjusting to life without wings. Dean is determined to save him, but will he be enough to pull Cas back from that edge? </p>
<p>Post S8, *Establishment of Destiel*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Phantom Wings

**Author's Note:**

> camwelgrace.tumblr.com  
> Trigger warning throughout the whole fic for an eating disorder, and self harm comes up later - I'll let you know when that comes in case it bothers you.  
> PS. This is unbeta'd, so please don't mind any mistakes.  
> Thanks for reading, enjoy! :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fic, so I'd love to get some feedback from you guys!

Dean walked past the closed door for the fourth time that morning. This time, however, he paused in front of it and even had the courage to raise his hand as if to knock. His knuckles never rapped against the wood, however, and, dropping his arm to his side, he moved away from it, chewing his lip.

"Just give him some time."

Dean looked up to see Sam standing at the end of the hallway, watching Dean knowingly.

"Time? He's been in there for twelve hours. How much more sleep does a guy need?" He followed his brother down the hallway and slid into the chair opposite him at the table.

"Well, I guess if you've spent most of history as a being that doesn't sleep, an opportunity to get some shut-eye is one you'd wanna take advantage of." Sam, always the rational one.

"Yeah, well," Dean grumbled quietly, picking at a spot on the table.

Sam watched him for a moment, eyebrows drawn together. "I'm worried about him, too," he finally murmured. "But I really do think he just needs time. We've all been there." Another pause. "He's lost everything."

Dean looked up. "Not everything. He hasn't lost everything. He's got us." He stood and left Sam at the table, heading to his own room.

***

Two days passed before Cas came out of the guest room for anything other than to use the bathroom. It was evening and the brothers were both in the kitchen, Dean standing at the stove flipping a few burgers, Sam at the opposite counter putting together a salad.

Cas shuffled in virtual silence into the doorway and stood.

"Cas," Dean said in surprise, looking up from his patties.

Spinning to also see the ruffled-looking man standing before them, Sam shifted his expression from pleasant surprise to something softer. "Hey, buddy."

Cas stood awkwardly for a moment before moving to a chair in the corner and easing himself into it with a soft sigh. Despite having spent so much time in bed recently, the man's face appeared drawn, his blue eyes not as icy as usual. The dark circles under his eyes contrasted sickly against his pale skin.

"You, uh... You want me to put a burger on for you?" A worried-looking Dean peered at him from across the stove, his hand hovering over a fourth patty to toss on the grill. "It's been a few days since you ate. Well, I mean - it's been longer than that, but uh, you know, three days as a - ..."

Cas merely looked at him, making Dean shift uncomfortably, worried he went too far. Luckily, his brother stepped in to help.

"We know you've got some stuff to get used to, but you should eat something," he spoke more kindly than Dean had, more sympathetically. "There are things you need to start remembering to take of, you know, as a human."

He said the word that Dean couldn't, and it made Cas flinch - the first expression he'd shown, however, other than that of exhaustion.

Sam and Dean shared a glance.

"Look, Cas-"

"I know." Cutting Dean off, Cas's voice came out gravelly from lack of use. "I know... This body has been protesting my neglect of it in the past three days. My stomach...has been very vocal."

A hopeful smile almost playing on his lips, Dean turned back to the burgers, throwing the fourth one on for Cas. "Yeah, that happens. Listen, why don't you get in the shower and Sam and I will get the grub ready. You can get out of those clothes, borrow some sweats from my dresser. Sound good?"

Cas nodded and stood, swaying slightly before heading out of the kitchen. As he walked away, it didn't go unnoticed from Dean when Cas rolled his shoulders in discomfort, wincing as if in pain before he disappeared around the corner.

"That's a good sign, right? He's coming out of his shell a little."

All Sam replied with was a soft "Hmm," however, before he turned his attention back to his lettuce.

***

Much to Dean's disappointment, Cas didn't make a whole lot of improvement over the next few days. He came out of his room mostly just once a day, and even then didn't say or eat much. He just sat with the boys and sipped water and pushed food around his plate. Sam tried in vain to keep a conversation going usually, but Dean had given up and just watched his friend with less hope each day.

After they ate, Cas would disappear to the bathroom, leaving Sam and Dean on the other side of a locked door and the sound of the shower running for way longer than necessary.

Finally, after almost a week of this, Dean had had enough. Cas was sitting at the table, staring down at a plate of eggs that had long gone cold. Dean was at the adjacent table, his disassembled gun spread out before him for cleaning.

He threw sideways glances at Cas for a while before finally speaking up.

"You gonna eat it, or just look at it?"

Cas looked up in surprise, as if he had forgotten Dean was there. "Um..." His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. "I'm not hungry," he said, pushing the plate away.

Dean pulled the bore brush out of the barrel of his gun and slammed both things on the table, making Cas jump violently and look at Dean in shock.

"Alright, Cas, that's it. You've been moping around here long enough. It's time you got yourself together, okay?"

Cas seemed to shrink into himself, his hands starting to tremble. Dean didn't notice, and his voice raised to a shout.

"Yeah, I know it sucks. You lost your wings. But you've gotta start moving on, man! I can't - you just - "

"Dean."

Turning to see Sam standing in the doorway, Dean finally stopped yelling.

"What's going on?" Sam eyes went from Dean, who was standing with his hands balled into fists, to Cas, who was hunched over the table and avoiding looking at either of them.

"Cas, he -"

But Sam cut him off, gesturing over his shoulder. "Can I talk to you, Dean? In private?"

Before Dean could follow Sam out of the door, Cas lurched up from his chair and slipped out, brushing past Sam on his way to the bathroom. The door shut with a sharp click that seemed to echo down the hall to Sam and Dean.

The anger on Dean's face subsided slightly, being replaced by a look of guilt. He sighed and collapsed into a chair, picking up his gun again.

"You're not being very fair to him," Sam slid into the chair across from him.

"I know," Dean said quietly. "I didn't mean to get pissed like that, and I didn't mean to scare him off. I just - I can't stand watching him do this every day, Sam."

"I know. Trust me, I know. I just think you could be a little more understanding. I think... I think he's depressed, Dean. Clinically depressed. He's been through a lot in the last two weeks, and he just needs our support. He doesn't need you yelling at him."

Giving up on the stripped weapon before him, Dean ran a hand over his face. "I know. I know. I should apologize to him. I'll talk to him when he comes out of the bathroom."

"Alright. Just be gentle, okay?" Sam stood, clapping Dean on the shoulder as he walked to get his jacket. "I'm gonna make a supply run, we're low on just about everything. I'll be back in an hour or two."

Dean nodded, gathering the parts of his gun to reassemble. He pulled the keys to the Impala from his pocket and tossed them to his brother, who caught them as he made his way up the stairs to the door. "Get some pie," Dean said before Sam shut the door behind him.

Sighing again, he packed up his cleaning kit.

Just as he was finished putting his things away, the bathroom door opened and Cas slunk out, making a beeline for his bedroom door.

"Cas, wait!" Dean called, making the other man freeze, his back to Dean. He stood tensely for a moment before slowly turning, as Dean hurried down the hall toward him.

"Listen, I..." Dean began softly. "I'm sorry, about yelling at you." He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, his eyes on Cas, who was looking everywhere but at Dean. "I know you're having a hard time. I just - I wanna see you getting better, feeling better... I mean, you hardly ever come out of your room, you lock yourself in the bathroom for hours-"

"Dean," Cas finally looked up at him, and Dean stopped talking. The two men looked each other in the eye for a moment. Cas spoke quietly. "It's okay... I know you're frustrated. I - I am having a hard time." He sighed, and slipped into his room. It was dim, the only light coming from the hallway. Dean followed and stood in the doorway, and Cas went over to his bed and sat on the edge before saying anything more. "Being human... It's not easy. Your emotions, they're so strong. I feel - " He looked down at his lap, looking embarrassed.

"Cas, talk to me," Dean moved across the room and sat next to him on the mattress.

The blue-eyed man sighed, wringing his hands in his lap. "I feel like I'm drowning." His voice cracked on the last word and he turned his face away from Dean, ashamed. "Sometimes it's so bad I can't catch my breath."

They were quiet for a minute, before Dean spoke, his voice softer than it had been before. "Of all people, Cas, I know what you're feeling. I really do. I'm... I'm glad you're telling me this. Me and Sam, we're here for you, alright? No matter what. You gotta know that."

Cas finally looked at Dean, his mouth pulled into an almost-smile for the first time in weeks, before it disappeared in a wince of pain. Rolling his shoulders, Cas reached and rubbed a hand over the back of his arm.

His eyebrows drawing together, Dean looked at him in worry. "Cas? Are you in pain?"

"I'm alright, Dean - "

"That's not the first time I saw you do that. Does your back hurt?"

"It's fine."

Dean glowered at him and Cas turn red, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

"I've been experiencing some pain, yes."

"Where? How bad?"

"It...varies. It's always in the same area, but sometimes it's not too bad. Other times..."

Looking at him knowingly, Dean said, "Other times it's so bad you can't get out of bed?"

The expression on Cas's face was confirmation enough. "Alright, lie down."

"What? Dean - "

"On your stomach, lie down." Dean stood, waiting for Cas to do as he was told. When Cas decided Dean wasn't going to let him get away with not complying, he lay down. He grumbled in pain and annoyance as he rolled onto his stomach, the side of his face pressed into the pillow.

"Alright, where does it hurt?"

"Er...mostly everywhere between my shoulders. Right in the center is where it's the worst."

Dean had pulled off his flannel so he was just in a T-shirt, and he looked down at Cas for a moment. "Where your wings would have been," he said, so quietly Cas thought he might have heard wrong. He did hear, however, and his stomach clenched tightly. He had been hoping Dean wouldn't make that connection.

"Yes," he murmured. He jumped slightly when he felt Dean's hands on the backs of his arms.

"It's alright," he heard Dean say softly from above him. His fingers pressed gently in the backs of Cas's arms, making their way up towards the top of his shoulders. Dean seemed to be thinking about something, and after a moment of quiet he said, "It's phantom limb syndrome."

"It's what?" Cas squirmed under Dean's touch.

"Phantom limb syndrome. You know, when people who get legs and arms amputated feel pain in the limb that's not there. It's pretty common, actually." His voice was gentle, and came from close behind Cas's shoulder as he leaned over him. "In your case, I guess it's even more figurative, since your vessel never actually had any wings. You're just feeling the pain through this body."

Cas pondered the idea of that, hyper-aware of Dean's hands moving over his trapezius muscles. The pads of his fingers were warm, pressing expertly into the skin on either side of his neck. The palms of his hands he could feel through the over-large crew neck he had borrowed from the man leaning over him.

"Alright, I'm gonna move down to where the pain is coming from. Try and keep relaxed."

Despite Dean's orders, Cas grimaced and tensed in anticipation. Dean felt his muscles ripple under his hands, but he kept going, despite Cas's obvious trepidation.

Castiel let out a hiss as Dean's fingers pressed between his shoulder blades, and he squirmed in pain. "Ouch, Dean -"

He tried to move out from under the man's hands, but Dean held him there. "Shh, Cas, relax. Just relax."

Cas forced himself to be still, but his muscles remained tight.

"I know it hurts. Just give me a minute, it'll help."

Shutting his eyes, Cas tried to concentrate on what Dean was doing. He felt his fingertips push into the muscle on either side of his spine, his palms kneading around the perimeter of his shoulder blades. Dean saw Cas clench his jaw a few times when he put pressure on particular spots, but he pushed through it, massaging out the kinks that were a result of Cas trying to protect himself from the pain in the last few weeks.

"That's it..." Dean said softly, surprising Cas again with how close his voice sounded. Slowly but surely, the pain seemed to be ebbing away, and Cas gradually relaxed. His breathing slowed into a more content pace, and he made Dean chuckle softly when he let out a quiet, "wow."

"It hardly hurts at all anymore," Cas whispered, his eyelids drooping. Dean hummed softly, his practiced hands still working their magic, until Cas drifted into a sleep that was the deepest and most relaxed it'd been since he'd been staying with them. When he was sure the former angel was completely out, Dean stood up straight and looked down at the peaceful-looking man. A soft smile on his face, he watched Cas sleep for several moments before turning and quietly letting himself out, shutting the door behind himself.

***

They had a sort of silent agreement after that. The days went by, and Cas came out of his room more, tried harder to eat what he could. In return, after Sam had gone to sleep each night, the two of them would make their way to Cas's room, where Dean massaged away the remnants of pain and loss that Castiel kept stored between his shoulder blades. With the phantom pain significantly reduced during the day, it was easier for him to get himself out of bed and take care of himself.

One night, when Dean was sure Cas had fallen asleep and he straightened up and turned to go, Cas caught his wrist. Dean looked down at the long fingers, curled loosely around his arm.

"No," Cas whispered, eyes still closed. "Stay."

Dean shifted from foot to foot, unsure if Cas knew what he was saying. He waited a moment, and Cas's hand dropped, releasing Dean's arm. He started to snore softly and Dean left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it, let me know what you think in the comments!
> 
> -Camel


	2. Reflected Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> camwelgrace.tumblr.com
> 
> So I'm getting this chapter up a lot faster than I thought I would, and I think I'll even have the next one up by tomorrow. It's written, I just have some edits to make.  
> Thank you to everyone who left a Kudos on the last chapter!  
> Thanks for reading, enjoy :)
> 
> (Unbeta'd)

"Hey, hey, hey, don't freak out on me now, man," Dean said in response to Cas's wide eyes and fearful expression. "I won't be gone long, and Sam's not going anywhere. You can stay here with him, help him look for a case."

"But Sam just went on a supply run, a week ago. Sam, you just went, right?" Cas looked frantically from Dean to Sam, who was sitting at the table on his laptop. 

"Well Sam didn't get any pie." Dean tossed a glare at his brother, who merely shrugged and jabbed away at his keyboard. "So I gotta go get some." He grabbed his jacket and pushed an arm through, before pausing.

He looked at Cas more sympathetically. The man stood before him, looking small in the Kansas football sweatshirt that belonged to Dean, gripping his left elbow with his right hand. His child-like appearance was accentuated by the tuft of hair that was standing up in the back of his head. He appeared to be pleading with Dean with his eyes, a look that said, "please don't leave me," quite clearly. 

Dean sighed. "I know, bud. It'll be okay. I'll go to the nearest Gas-N-Sip, grab some pie, and be back before you know it." He pulled his jacket on all the way. "I need to get out of the bunker, stretch my legs, get some air. I can't stay cooped up here for so long. Okay?"

Castiel stood for a moment, opened his mouth as if to say something, closed it again, and then said, "I'll go with you," almost inaudibly. 

Sam and Dean shared a look, and Dean frowned, turning back to Cas. "Cas, you don't have to...-"

"I want to. I'll go. I should get out, too."

The brothers both peered at him, and Sam said, "We don't want you to feel like you're being rushed into anything you're not ready for." 

"No, it's alright. I'll go. I have to go out eventually, might as well be now." 

Dean sighed quiety. "Alright, Cas. Let's go." 

Dean waited patiently while Cas headed back to his room to change from the sweatpants he'd been wearing for days to a pair of jeans. 

The Winchester brothers shared another meaningful look. "He finds you comforting," Sam said to Dean. 

"Yeah, well, he can't cling to me forever." 

"Be careful out there," Sam warned. Dean nodded, a bad feeling settling in his stomach. 

Castiel still looked worried when he returned, but he waved goodbye to Sam and followed Dean out of the bunker and to the Impala. Carefully watching Cas get into the car from the corner of his eye, Dean too slid into his seat. He started the car and slowly pulled away from the entrance to the bunker, heading towards the highway. 

More than once, Dean tried to prompt Cas into speaking, only to get a few one-word responses and more pained-looking shoulder rolls. After the conversation fell flat on every occasion and Dean noticed the slight tremor in Cas's hands, he turned on the radio, allowing Led Zeppelin's _The Battle of Evermore_ to quietly fill the silence instead. Cas stared at his hands, apparently refusing to look out of the window. 

Fifteen minutes later, Dean was steering the Impala into the parking lot of the Gas-N-Sip. He pulled into the spot closest to the door, though it was still several yards away.

"You're sure you're up for this?" Dean confirmed. 

"Yes, Dean."

The two of them got out of the car and made their way towards the building, Cas following directly behind the taller man. The front of his shoulder was almost brushing the back of Dean's. 

They were mere feet from the door when a flock of pigeons took flight around the corner of the building. A hand shot out sharply and grabbed Dean's arm, pulling him back and rooting him to the spot. He turned to Cas, whose eyes were frigidly blue and darting left and right. 

"Did you hear that?" Cas's whisper was strained, and Dean tried to pry his powerful fingers off of his arm, his circulation being compromised by Cas's grip. "Wings. I heard wings."

"Pigeons, Cas. Just pigeons." He dropped his voice and dipped his head in order to catch Cas's eye. "No angels," he said, shaking his head. "You're safe, Cas. Understand?" 

Cas nodded and removed his hand from Dean's arm. "Sorry." 

"Don't be. It's alright." 

They made it the rest of the way to the building and walked inside, the bell tinkling over the door as they entered. 

"Alright, help me find the pie," Dean grabbed a basket by the front. "You see anything else you want, grab it, alright? Unless you wanna eat Sam's rabbit food, this is your chance to get something you like." 

They wandered through the small store, Dean throwing various items into his basket on the way to where the pie was. Cas picked up some beef jerky, which he knew Dean liked, and offered it to him. Dean grunted in satisfaction and the jerky was tossed in as well. By the time they made it to the pie, Cas seemed much more relaxed. His eyes darted around occasionally but he was breathing quietly through his nose, hands in his pockets.

Dean bit his lip, looking over the relatively large selection of pies. He tsk'ed. 

"Ice cream, too?" Cas suggested, making Dean look up at him. 

"Sure. We'll go there next." He looked back at the pie. 

"It's alright, I'll get it. Just wait here." 

Surprised by this, Dean looked up again. "You sure?" 

"Yes."

"Okay... I'll be right here."

And Cas walked off towards the corner, where the wall of freezers was. 

Figuring he could take his time with his selection process while he waited for Cas, Dean picked up a plastic container labelled "cherry." Casting a furtive glance for any on-lookers and seeing no one, he opened up a corner of the box and brought it to his face. Sniffed. Set it back down, unimpressed. He did the same for two more boxes until he spotted one labelled "pecan" and grinned to himself. _That's what I'm talkin' about_ , he thought. 

He grabbed the box, which passed his sniff-test, and was about to place it in the basket with everything else when the hair on the nape of his neck bristled and he froze. There was an odd commotion from the other side of the Gas-N-Sip, voices that were speaking too fast and at the wrong pitch. He turned, Cas and worry filling his thoughts, and began moving briskly in that direction, his heart starting to pick up. He heard a sharp " _Hey, buddy?_ " and then a sudden and deafening _CRASH_ , followed by gasps. Dean dropped his basket and pie, abandoning them where they lay strewn across the floor, and he was running, sprinting across the linoleum toward the sound. 

"Cas?" He called before skidding past the freezers and around the corner, into the adjacent aisle. What he saw was just what he had feared, live and in color. 

One of the metal shelves had been pulled out from the larger unit, it's contents spread across the tile. Amidst the boxes of macaroni and hamburger helper lay Cas, flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling. He was gasping for breath, a look of pure terror on his face. In one hand, he clung to a crushed Klondike bar, a handful of others on the floor around him. His other hand was desperately clutching at his chest as he struggled to breathe. 

" _Cas!_ " Diving across the aisle and onto his knees next to Cas, Dean shooed away the few people standing around him with his arm. "Get back! Back up!"

They backed up a few steps, one man saying, "Is he having a heart attack?" 

"I think it's a panic attack," another lady muttered in response. 

"Buddy, do you want me to call 9-1-1?" First guy asked. 

"No," Dean replied impatiently. "No, just - give him space, back up." They hardly moved. " _Back the fuck up_ ," he finally growled, and they cleared out of the way, choosing to instead peer across neighboring shelves from the other aisles. "Cas," he said more quietly, forcing calm into his voice for the panicked man's sake. "Cas, hey, look at me." He cupped Cas's face in his hands and tried to get him to meet his gaze, but Cas continued to stare wildly over his shoulder. "Cas, it's Dean. I'm here. Look at me."

The Klondike bar slipped from Cas's hand and slid off his chest and onto the floor as Cas raised his arm to point up at the ceiling. Following with his eyes, Dean looked up and over his shoulder. Above them, in the corner where the wall met the ceiling, was a mirror. Reflected in it were two men, one lying on the floor while the other bent over him. 

"Yeah, Cas. That's us. It's just a mirror. Cas?" 

"Wings," Cas gasped out, still not looking at Dean. "W-Wings."

Dean took Cas's pointing hand and brought it back down to Cas's chest, shifting his own body so he was directly over him and blocking his view of the mirror. "No, Cas. There are no wings. Okay? No wings. You're safe."

Cas's field of vision now entirely filled with Dean, he was forced to look at him. He jumped, as if seeing him for the first time. "D-Dean?"

"Yeah, bud. I'm right here." Dean smoothed his hand over Cas's forehead, brushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes. To Dean's horror, Cas's panic seemed to grow. He squirmed and whimpered, he breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts. 

"I -" Cas reached out and gripped the front of Dean's shirt, clutching him desperately. "I can't - breath -" 

"Shh, I know," Dean murmured. "I understand that you're scared. It's okay to be afraid, Cas. But you're safe, alright? You're safe here, I've got you. Shh..." He brushed his fingers through Cas's hair a few times, the man's petrified blue eyes never leaving Dean's reassuring green ones. "Can you do something for me, Cas? Can you sit up?" Cas shook his head vehemently, gasping. "Okay, okay, that's alright. Hey, that's fine. Alright, I'm gonna ask you to do something else. You don't have to go anywhere. Okay?"

Cas hesitated and then nodded, his grip on Dean not easing up. 

"Good, good." Dean looked around them at the shelves. "Okay, you see that box of cereal? Right there on that shelf? The Captain Crunch." He pointed to it. "I just want you to look at it, okay?" 

Cas seemed to steel himself before tearing his eyes from Dean's face, glancing quickly at the cereal and then back. A smile appeared on Dean's lips, which he directed at the trembling man. "Great, thank you. That was good." Dean spotted something else, pointed. "Now look at that for me. Do you see that box of macaroni?" 

Cas looked at it, nodded. 

"Awesome, Cas, that's great. Really great." 

Dean continued for several minutes, pointing to things for Cas to look at, trying to get him grounded again. Finally, his breathing slowed, his eyes starting to lose the trapped-animal look in them. Dean could no longer feel Cas's heart pounding through his chest, but he continued to hold onto the front of Dean's jacket. 

"Can you tell me where you are, Cas?" 

Cas swallowed, licked his lips. "I'm - I'm in a Gas-N-Sip, in Kansas." Dean nodded, encouraging him. "I'm on the floor. I - I'm human. But I'm safe."

Dean nodded, smiling widely down at his friend. "Yes, you are. You did great, Cas, that was great."

Despite Dean's kind words, Cas's face burned red with embarrassment. 

"Please take me home," he whispered. 

"Of course," and Dean gently pulled him up from the floor and half-led, half-supported him to the door, ignoring the stares and whispers from the on-lookers. It wasn't until he got Cas into the passenger seat of the Impala and shut the door that he finally let his own breath out, running a shaking hand through his hair. 

***

The drive home was worse than the drive there. Not only did Cas not contribute to conversation, he didn't respond to Dean at all. He merely stared straight ahead, out of the front windshield, hardly aware of his surroundings whatsoever. 

Dean cast a worried glance at him. "Cas? Hey, you alright?" No response. "We're almost home, bud."

He pulled the Impala up to the front of the bunker and jumped out. Hurrying around the car to Cas's side, he opened his door. Cas sat, staring straight ahead. "Cas, man... Come on, let's go inside." Dean crouched down next to him and reached in, brushing his hand over Cas's forehead. "Cas?" Those blue eyes finally turned to find Dean, but the man behind them didn't attempt to get out of the car. 

Dean reached over and unbuckled the seat belt and pulled Cas to his feet. 

Sam jumped up when the two of them burst loudly through the door, Dean struggling to support Cas down the steps. "Dean! Cas, what -" 

He hurried forward and got on Cas's other side. 

"Just help me get him to his bed," Dean grunted from under Cas's weight. 

The two of them got Cas to his room and settled on top of his bed, where he closed his eyes and said nothing, still refusing to acknowledge anyone around him. After realizing they weren't going to get anything out of him, Sam and Dean let themselves out, shutting the door behind them. 

"What the hell happened?" Sam inquired. 

"Dude, I don't know. He seemed okay, you know, in the beginning. A little jumpy, but he calmed down. And then he went off to get ice cream and had a full-blown panic attack in the cereal aisle. Fuck, I - I shouldn't have brought him." He ran both hands down his weary face. "I knew it was a terrible idea, and I still let him come along." 

"The guy asked you to take him, he wasn't forced to do anything. Don't beat yourself up over this, Dean. It's a set-back, but he'll pull through." He looked at his brother. "Do you know what triggered the attack?"

Dean sighed. "He thought - well, at least I think - he thought he saw wings, in a mirror. On himself, I'm guessing. He's apparently having a really hard time accepting humanity."

It was Sam's turn to sigh. "I know I keep saying this, but I really think it's true. He just -"

"-needs time, yeah, I get it. I just don't know how much longer I can do this." 

***

Cas remained virtually catatonic for the rest of that day and into the next. Every few hours or so Dean would go and stand in the doorway, watching the man in his stupor. The only evidence Cas was still alive was the fact that he had rolled so that he was facing the wall, his back to the door. Dean watched the soft rise and fall of his shoulders from where he leaned on the doorframe, hands in his pockets. 

The next time Dean checked on him, he walked into the room and pulled a chair up to Cas's bed in the dark. He sat for what felt like hours. Once, he reached out and brushed his hand over Cas's shoulder, but pulled back when Cas flinched away from the touch. 

Sighing, he flicked on the radio that sat on the bedside table. He got up and left, leaving the radio playing very softly and Cas laying immobile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have got some REALLY caring and adorable Dean coming, so look forward to that :)
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments! I'm dying to hear from you. 
> 
> -Camel


	3. Broken Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for self harm in this chapter, please don't read if that bothers you.  
> 

It was quarter to four the following morning, roughly 36 hours since the incident at the gas station. Cas had yet to leave his room. If he had gotten up to use the bathroom, he must have done it when no one was around. Sam was in bed, sound asleep, Dean in the library,  
the complete opposite. He sipped from a glass of whiskey that he'd already refilled twice and clicked idly through the Internet from Sam's laptop. He sat at a vantage point with a clear view of the hall, knowing Cas would have to come out for the toilet eventually and he would catch him.

Nevertheless, when Cas's bedroom door opened with a soft squeak, Dean jumped in surprise. His heart quickened but he forced himself to stay in his chair, not wanting to frighten Cas back into his room. He watched as Cas slunk across the hall and into the bathroom, his head dipped low. He didn't seem to have noticed Dean watching. 

Deciding he would wait and intercept Cas on his way back, Dean sat patiently for the bathroom door to reopen. Minutes passed, and Dean glanced at his watch. _What the hell is taking him so long?_ He thought. Finally, when it'd been fifteen minutes and he couldn't take it any longer, he rose from his chair and made his way to the closed bathroom door. 

Dean knocked ever so softly. "Cas?" He spoke just loud enough for his voice to pass through the heavy wooden door. No answer. "Cas, I know you're in there. Can we talk?" He heard a soft shuffling from the inside and pressed his ear to the door. There was sniffling. Crying? "Cas?" 

"Please just leave me alone, Dean," a broken voice finally said from the other side of the door. 

"Sorry, Cas, no-can-do. I'm not leaving you to go through this alone. Open the door, Cas." 

"I can't do that."

"Why not?" He jimmied the knob. "Cas, open the door before I pick the lock and come in there anyway." He heard what sounded like a muffled sob. _Alright, that's it_. Dean jogged back to get his lock pick kit and returned, sliding the tools into the doorknob. 

"Dean, no - please - just g-go back to bed. Please, don't come in here -" 

The lock gave with a click and the door swung inward. Dean straightened up and froze when he caught sight of Cas. He felt his face pale and his stomach clenched at the sight before him. 

"Cas?"

Cas stood at the sink like a deer caught frozen in headlights, his eyes dry but blood-shot. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and Dean's eyes fell on the inside of his arms. The soft, pale skin on both arms was disrupted by smears of red, the cause of which Dean saw was a razor that Cas had clutched in his hand. He recognized it as Sam's shaving razor. 

" _Cas!_ What - what the hell -" Dean barged into the room and Cas stepped away from him, but Dean grabbed his wrist. He tore the razor from his hand and threw it in the sink, among the drops of blood that colored the porcelain. 

"Dean, I -" 

"Fuck, Cas." Still holding one of his wrists, Dean grabbed a hand towel from the counter and wrapped it around Cas's arm, covering the bloody lines and holding pressure. Dean's heart pounded, and he felt like he might be sick. He grabbed another towel and did the same for the other arm. 

"Dean -" Cas tried to pull away again, but Dean held onto his arms, gazing down at them with wide eyes. Slightly raised pale lines littered the majority of his skin, some of them pinker and more angrier-looking than others - those that were more recent. 

"How long has this been going on, Cas?" Dean asked quietly as the pieces came together in his head. The long periods of time Cas spent in the bathroom over the weeks, the sound of the water running, it all made sense. "Cas..." 

"Dean, I'm - I'm sorry." Cas was shaking his head violently, looking close to tears now. "I did-didn't want you to f-find out, I -"

" _Fuck_ , Cas," Dean repeated, unable to take his eyes off of the destruction that Cas had been inflicting upon himself for the past several weeks. He looked up at Cas's face. The expression on it was so full of guilt and shame that Dean had to look away, the backs of his own eyes prickling threateningly. "It's okay, let me look." Carefully removing one of the towels, he gave a closer inspection of the slices. They weren't deep enough to need stitches, but they required bandaging. "Alright, Cas, I'm gonna clean you up, okay?" He tossed the towel in the sink, and without letting go of Cas's arm with one hand, he used the other to reach into the cabinet and grab a pack of gauze and a rolled bandage. "It's gonna be okay." 

Cas whimpered, his head hanging, fat tears sitting in the corners of his eyes. He flinched when Dean began wiping the blood away, and Dean glanced at him but continued. "I know, just hang in there," he murmured. When the blood was cleared off, he expertly wrapped the bandage around his arm and tied it off before moving to the next arm. Cas didn't try and fight him; he just stood, defeated. 

Dean's heart was still pounding in his chest by the time he finished, but he was doing everything he could to hide his panic from the broken man standing before him. 

"I'm sorry..." Cas's voice was so tiny and pathetic that Dean's throat clenched. 

"No, no, Cas," he said, his voice cracking. "I don't want you to apologize, I don't. Let's just - I'll get you back in bed, alright?" He took Cas's hand in his own, lacing their fingers. "Walk back to your room with me." He gently led Cas by the hand back across the hall and into his dark room, where the radio was still quietly playing and shadows stretched across the walls. 

Dean shut the door behind them. He left Cas standing there for a moment while he hurried to the closet, flicking on the light and then closing that door most of the way to allow some light to come into the room. He returned to Cas and picked up his hand again, standing for another moment to allow both of their eyes to adjust to the dimness. There was just enough light to allow Dean to guide Cas safely to the bed. 

Cas crawled into the bed and lay on his back as Dean kicked off his shoes, and he pulled Dean into the bed with him. 

"I'm not going anywhere," Dean whispered, sensing Cas's desperation through the darkness. "I'm staying right here with you." 

Dean sat cross-legged next to him, their fingers intertwined. 

"Let me see," Dean whispered, pulling Cas's arm toward him. 

"No - " Cas tried to resist, but Dean insisted, taking Cas's wrist and turning his arm to expose his scars. 

"It's okay," Dean whispered. His thumb, light as a feather, brushed over the scars above his bandage. "You're safe, Cas." Dean bent his head, and Cas gasped when he felt Dean's lips brush over the pale tracks. "I've got you, Cas." He pressed his lips to Cas's skin, kissing the marks of hatred that Cas left on himself. 

Overcome by the utter gentleness of Dean's touches, Cas brought his other arm up and flung it over his eyes as fresh tears streaked his cheeks. He stifled a sob, and Dean kissed his skin again, on the scars a few inches higher up his forearm. 

"I'm not going to leave you," Dean whispered. 

The radio played softly, a voice drifting out of the speaker through the darkness. 

_Body's working on empty_ ,  
_Is that the kind of way to face the burning heat?_

Dean tenderly pulled Cas's arm away from his face and bent over him to lay his lips down on that wrist. Crying quietly, Cas watched him, his eyes following every move. Pushing Cas's sleeves up as far as they would go, Dean placed kisses up both of his arms, to where the scars disappeared under the fabric of his sweatshirt. 

_I just think about my baby,_  
_I'm so full of love I can barely eat_

"You don't need to go through anything alone," Dean murmured into Cas's skin, whose breath hitched with emotion in response. "I'm here for you, Cas. I'm here."

 _When my time comes around,_  
_Lay me gently in the cold dark earth_  
_No grave can hold my body down,_  
_I'll crawl home to him_

One of Dean's hands slid over Cas's hip and he paused, registering that the bone protruded just slightly too significantly - the result of the man's scant eating habits of late. He brushed his hand across Cas's stomach to the opposite hip, pushing the hem of his sweatshirt out of the way as he did and revealing the skin beneath.

"Oh, Cas..." Dean's voice almost broke as he gazed down at the man. Both of his warm, calloused hands slid the sweatshirt upward to Cas's ribs. The little light that filtered into the room reflected off of more pale scars, which littered his hips and abdomen. They were more scarce here, more spread out, but continued up his body and past his ribs. 

_Boys, when my baby found me,_  
_I was three days on a drunken sin_. 

Dean watched as a tear dropped silently onto Cas's skin and he realized it was his own. 

_I woke with their walls around me_ ,  
_Nothing in the room but an empty crib._

"I'm sorry," Cas's broken whisper only made Dean's heart break more, and he was leaning down, hands and lips on Cas. His kisses travelled over his hips and stomach, trying to erase the pain and loss that was etched into his skin. 

"Don't apologize," Dean growled, his voice made gravelly by his own tears. "Don't do that, Cas." When Dean's mouth reached Cas's ribs, he kissed them, too. 

_And I was burning up a fever,_  
_I didn't care much how long I lived_

Prompted by Dean, Cas sat up and bent his head, allowing Dean to pull his sweatshirt off of him. It was dropped onto the floor as Cas lay back down, his hair mussed. 

_I swear I thought I dreamed him_ ,  
_He never asked me once about the wrong I did_. 

Dean placed kisses on every one of Cas's ribs that poked out, and every scar that blemished his chest. "You don't need to do this to yourself," he whispered. "You're beautiful, Cas." 

_My babe would never fret none,_  
_About what my hands and my body done._

"Scars or not." 

He kissed across one of Cas's collar bones and to the other. 

_If the Lord don't forgive me,_  
_I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me._

"Wings or not." 

Salty tears from both Cas and Dean glistened on Cas's pale skin. Cas trembled with each of his quiet sobs. 

_When I was kissing on my baby_  
_And they put their love down soft and sweet_

Dean's hand warmed the skin down Cas's side, his touch gentle and loving. Cas leaned his head back against the pillow as Dean's mouth traveled up his throat, laying kisses along the way and making the ex-angel shiver beneath him. "We need you, Cas," Dean whispered, pressing his lips to the man's jaw. Strikingly blue, bloodshot eyes glimmered up at him. Cas's arms had made their way around Dean's neck and he clung to him, his fingers entwined in his hair. 

_In the low lamp light I was free;_  
_Heaven and Hell were words to me_

"I need you," Dean whispered, staring down at Cas, their faces inches apart. 

Cas closed the space between them, crashing their mouths together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so excited to post this, I love this chapter so much.  
> The song is Work Song by Hozier. If you know it, you may have noticed that I changed the pronouns from her/she to him/he/they, but other than that, those are pretty much the lyrics. If you don't know the song, I REALLY suggest you look it up because it is so Destiel that it hurts and is just an amazing song regardless. I listened to it the whole time I was writing this chapter.  
> PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT! Let me know what you thought, I LOVE feedback!  
> Thanks for reading,  
> -Camel


	4. Healing Wings?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> camwelgrace.tumblr.com
> 
> Hey guys, sorry this took so long. I had to get my computer sent in to get fixed, it had a virus that made me want to pull my hair out. 
> 
> Anyway, unbeta'd as usual, plz ignore any mistakes.
> 
> Enjoy :)

Dean stirred from sleep, feeling a little disoriented and unsure of where he was. He heard a door shut quietly from somewhere close by and determined that that was what had woken him. 

Feeling something solid and warm pressed against him and breathing softly into his neck, his eyes fluttered open and the memories of where he was and how he got there returned to him. He looked down at Cas, who was sound asleep and curled against Dean's chest, one of his arms looped around Dean's bare waist. Dean had an arm under Cas's head, being used as his pillow, his other thrown over Cas's torso. Their jean-clad legs were tangled together under the blankets, hardly allowing any space between them. 

Dean glanced at his watch, which showed 7:26 am. He sighed and allowed his eyes to close again. They'd only just fallen asleep barely two hours before. 

Knowing he had to get up and talk to Sam, who he was sure had just poked his head into the room and seen them intertwined together, he allowed himself a few more minutes to lie with Cas, his thoughts drifting over the memories of just hours before. 

They had kissed each other until both of their tears dried, their hands exploring one another, brushing across each other's chests and through each other's hair. Dean had also lost his shirt somewhere along the way, leaving it abandoned on the floor. Cas had finally calmed down, his sobs receding as Dean had murmured loving things to him. Their lips had travelled over the skin of the other, covering each other's necks and torsos in kisses, but their mouths always seemed to end up back together. 

Dean felt himself starting to drift off again and forced himself to open his eyes. He watched Cas sleep peacefully for a few moments longer before sighing and carefully disentangling their legs, gently pulling his arm out from under Cas's head, and slipping out of the bed without waking him. Locating his shirt on the floor, Dean grabbed it and pulled it over his head as he let himself out, softly shutting the door behind him. 

He found Sam in the kitchen, where he sat at the table eating cereal. He looked up when Dean came into the room. 

"Well, hey," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. 

"Hey," Dean avoided his eyes and went to fill himself a mug of coffee from the pot that Sam had made. 

"So I found bloody towels all over the bathroom," Dean heard Sam say, and he turned to look at him, holding his full mug. 

"Shit, yeah, I forgot to clean that up."

"I cleaned it up, no worries." Sam looked at him levelly, his expression more serious. "I'm guessing it was from Cas?"

Dean sighed heavily, still not having touched his coffee. "Yeah, it was pretty rough... And not the first time, apparently."

Sam nodded solemnly, his suspicions of the reason for the blood confirmed. "I got everything sharp out of the bathroom, you know, just in case."

"Yeah, that's a good idea..." Dean nodded sadly. "Hopefully I have it handled and we won't have to worry about that kind of thing again."

"Yeah," Sam said, a small glimmer of humor returning to his eye. "It looked like you handled something, that's for sure." 

"Shaddup." Dean finally took a sip of his coffee, using it as a tactic to hide his reddening cheeks from his brother, but Sam chuckled. Dean narrowed his eyes at him. "You don't seem all that surprised."

"Surprised about what?" Sam asked innocently. 

"You're a bitch, you know that?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sam's eyes were wide with mock innocence, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward. 

"You don't seem surprised, about, you know, finding me and Cas... You know, in his bed, or whatever." Dean stumbled through the words and felt his cheeks flame so aggressively that he turned his back on Sam to refill his mug, though he'd barely drunk any of the coffee inside it. Sam laughed out loud behind him. 

"Yeah, that's because I'm not," Sam said, making Dean spin back around to face him. 

"What?" 

"Dean, come on. This was bound to happen, we all knew it." Sam's eyes actually glimmered with the laughter in them. "If Bobby were here, he would've said the same thing." 

Dean just looked at Sam for a moment, and then grumbled. "Yeah, well, whatever. You're...still a bitch."

Sam laughed again, undeterred. "Whatever you say." He pulled his laptop over to himself. "But anyway, check this out. I found a case in Oklahoma." 

"Yeah?" Dean made his way over and stood behind Sam so he could see the screen over his shoulder. Sam had a news site pulled up, the headline reading "Woman Found Dead in Home, Apparently Drowned in Bed."

"Drowned in bed?" Dean frowned. 

"That's what they're saying. Apparently she was found in her bed, soaking wet and her lungs full of water. They're thinking homicide, that someone drowned her in her bathtub and moved her body after." 

"You don't agree?" Dean sipped his coffee. 

"Well, get this; the woman didn't have a bathtub. She only had a shower. And I did some more digging, found out she had a brother who drowned two years ago, and she was there when it happened." Sam looked over his shoulder at his own brother. 

"So you're thinking vengeful spirit?" Dean asked. 

Sam shrugged. "It makes sense. It's too suspicious not to. I think it's worth a look, it's only a four hour drive from here."

Dean chewed his lip, looking torn. "Yeah... I mean, I agree, it's worth a look. But we can't exactly bring Cas along with us, and I'm sure as hell not leaving him here alone." 

"I'll just go, then." Sam peered up at him. "It looks easy enough, just a salt and burn, and it shouldn't take more than the weekend."

"Sam, no," Dean said, shaking his head. "You shouldn't go alone." Sam actually rolled his eyes at him. "I'm serious, Sammy, what if it's something more than a vengeful spirit, and you need backup?" 

"Dean, this wouldn't be my first solo hunt, you know. Are you forgetting I did this without you for a year?" 

"I definitely remember you also not having a soul at the time."

Sam snorted. "It'll be fine. I'll call you with updates as I have them, and if it turns out to be something bigger, I'll come back and call someone else to handle it. Deal?"

Dean looked at him for a moment, obviously thinking hard about it. "Alright, fine. But you have to keep me updated, and don't do anything stupid."

"Yeah, I got it." Sam shut his laptop and stood up. "I might as well get out of here then. You cool with me taking the Impala?"

"No, but do I have a choice?" 

Sam shrugged, smiling. 

"The keys are in the library," Dean said, looking unhappy. 

"Thanks." Sam picked up his laptop and took his cereal bowl to the sink. "Anyway, it might be good for me to be out of the way for a weekend, huh?" 

"What are you talking about?"

"You know, you and Cas can have the bunker to yourselves." Dean wasn't even looking at Sam and could hear the smirk in his voice. "Sort stuff out, do...whatever. You know, as long as you stay out of my bed." 

Sam earned a smack on the back of the head from Dean, but he only laughed before dodging past him and out the door, heading to his room to pack. 

Dean took a shower and put on sweatpants and a clean t-shirt while Sam got ready to go. He said goodbye to his brother but not without giving him a pointed look and saying, "If she's got a scratch on her when you come back..." 

Sam rolled his eyes and grabbed the keys. "Yeah, I got it, Dean."

"I'm serious, Sam, not a scratch! And keep me updated!" He called as Sam waved his hand at him dismissively and shut the door behind himself. 

Dean grumbled to himself and wandered back to Cas's room, where he found him still dead to the world, lying in the same position he left him in an hour ago. Watching from the doorway, Dean wondered how much sleep the guy had really been getting lately. Cas had always passed out during the nightly back massages Dean gave him, but he didn’t actually know how long he would sleep for.

He made his way back to the bed and climbed into it, trying his best not to jostle Cas. As he settled under the blankets, however, Cas stirred, his eyes fluttering beneath his eyelids. Dean watched his face as he slowly returned to consciousness until finally there were sleepy, blue eyes staring up at him. 

"Hey, Cas," Dean said quietly, smiling at him. 

"Hello, Dean." Cas stretched and looked around before blushing and turning his face back into the pillow. "I'm sorry about last night,” he murmured.

"What?" Dean almost reached out to touch him but stopped himself. "Don't apologize. And don't be embarrassed." 

Cas peeked at him with one eye, making Dean chuckle. The urge to lean in and kiss Cas overcame him, but he wasn't sure if he should. Now that it was morning, and the air of desperation wasn't clouding them, he was left unsure of where they stood. Instead, he looked away, rolling onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. 

"Sam left for a case in Oklahoma."

Dean saw Cas's head raise from the pillow slightly out of the corner of his eye. "Without you?" 

"I told him to go. Seems like an easy one, he should be able to handle it on his own." 

Cas said nothing for a while and Dean knew what he was thinking. 

"You didn't have to stay back here for me," he finally said, almost too quiet to hear. Dean turned his head to look at him. 

"I wanted to," he said, not much louder than Cas. They looked at each other for a moment, and Dean had that urge again, which he suppressed. "How are you feeling?" 

Nodding ever so slightly, Cas said, "I'm feeling okay. Kind of hungry, actually."

Trying in vain to suppress his grin, Dean couldn't help but reach over and brush Cas's hair out of his eyes. "Yeah?"

"A little, yeah." One corner of Cas's mouth tipped upward vaguely.

"Alright, I'll make you something." Dean sat up. "What d'you want?"

Cas rolled onto his back and peered up at Dean, the blanket pulled up to his chest. "A poptart." He blushed a little when Dean laughed, but his mouth twitched upward again.

"A poptart?" Dean said. "Well, alright. Toasted?" 

Cas nodded. 

"Okay. Poptart it is. Come on, I'll put one in the toaster for you." He slid out of the bed and motioned toward the door with his head. Cas followed, picking his sweatshirt off of the floor and putting it on as he went. 

Once in the kitchen, Dean started rummaging through the cabinets for the box of poptarts, and Cas quietly slid into a chair, from which he sat watching. After tearing open the package and sticking the poptarts in the toaster, Dean grabbed a couple glasses and filled them with milk from the fridge, whistling softly, his back to Cas. He turned around with the glasses, looked up at Cas, and laughed. 

Cas startled slightly, looking up from where he was picking at a hangnail. "What?" He looked a little alarmed. 

"No, nothing, it's just - " Dean walked over and set the glasses of milk on the table. "Your hair. It's everywhere." 

Cas reached up to touch his incredible bedhead. 

"Here." Dean came and stood directly in front of Cas and reached up to rake his fingers through his hair, trying to get it to lie flat. He chuckled. "It doesn't want to be tamed," he said quietly. As Dean smoothed down his hair, he felt Cas's fingers close around the hem of his t-shirt and he tentatively pulled Dean closer, until he was standing between the sitting man's knees. Dean's own hands slid down to rest on either side of Cas's neck and they stood, peering at one another. The hands hanging onto the bottom of Dean's shirt let go and travelled upward to his chest as Cas tilted his face towards Dean. Dean bent his neck, his own hands sifting through the hair at the back of Cas's head. His green eyes searched Cas's blue ones, questioning, making sure it was okay that their faces were now inches apart. Cas's eyes closed, and Dean took it as permission to close his own and their lips met. Dean kissed him tenderly at first, but just as Cas was pulling Dean even closer, his hands once again holding the front of his t-shirt, the toaster popped. They both jumped, their eyes opening. 

Dean cleared his throat and stepped away from Cas, laughing awkwardly. "Poptarts are done." 

He hid his flaming cheeks and made himself busy getting the poptarts out and putting them on paper plates, one for each of them. 

"Here," he said as he set a plate before Cas and slid into a chair with his own. 

"Thank you," Cas murmured, eyes downcast. 

They sat in silence, Dean finishing his in a few bites while Cas nibbled around the edges of his own. Dean cast glances at him, but Cas kept his eyes low. He looked exhausted. 

"Hey," Dean said softly, getting Cas to finally look up at him. Dean frowned. "You alright?"

Cas nodded. 

"Tired?"

Cas nodded again. 

"We can get you back in bed after you finish your poptart." 

Cas set the poptart down, only half of it eaten. "I'm finished." 

Dean looked at him levelly, wanting to say a lot of things. He settled with a quiet, "You sure?" 

Another nod. 

"Alright, well, I can make you something else later if you get hungry again. You let me know, okay?" Dean took both plates and threw them in the trash. He chewed his lip and turned back to Cas. "Cas..." 

But anything he was going to say died on his lips when those blue eyes looked up at him, appearing incredibly tired. Dean sighed. "Let's...get back to bed, alright?"

"Come with me?" Cas asked in a small voice.

Dean nodded. "If you want me to." 

Cas held out his hand and Dean took it, leading the man out of the kitchen and down the hall towards the bedroom. He said nothing, his thoughts gnawing at him. Cas had seemed better, almost good, when he had first woken up. His appetite hadn't lasted very long, and he was tired after being awake for less than an hour. Dean knew he shouldn't worry, and that these things took time, but he still felt like he wished he could be doing more for Cas. 

With the door shut behind them, Cas climbed into the bed, snuggling under the blankets and peeping up at Dean, who couldn't help but smile. He slid into the bed after him. 

Cas dozed off after a while, breathing softly, and Dean was in and out of sleep too. He woke once to find they'd gravitated towards each other and had ended up in each other's arms while they'd slept, their noses almost touching. 

A few hours later Dean’s ringing cell phone woke the both of them, and Dean nearly fell out of the bed trying to disentangle himself from both Cas and the blankets in time to rush to get it. Cas pulled the blanket off of the bed and wrapped it around himself before following after Dean down the hall in his bare feet. In the kitchen, Dean made them sandwiches with his phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder as he talked to Sam, Cas sitting on a stool in his blanket. Dean was unable to keep himself from touching Cas as he walked passed him from the fridge to the counter to the pantry and back; a touch under the chin and a smile here, a brush of fingers through Cas’s hair on the top of his head there. One of the times he walked by, Dean tapped him on the hand and shook his head at him to get him to stop picking at the bandages on his arms, and Cas sat on his hands. 

Dean could tell from Sam’s voice that he was annoyed that he wasn’t paying complete attention to him. It wasn’t until Cas came up behind Dean and rested his chin on his shoulder that Dean became hopelessly distracted, unable to make a sandwich and listen to his brother all while Cas’s arms were snaked around his middle, encasing both of them in the blanket. 

“Dean?” Sam said in frustration.

“Huh?” Dean was very aware of Cas placing his lips on the side of his neck that was exposed as he pinned his cell phone to his ear on the other. 

“Are you listening?” Sam complained.

“What? I’m making sandwiches.”

There was an exasperated sigh from the other side of the line. “Where’s Cas?”

“Cas is right here.”

“Thought so.” Dean knew the look that Sam had on his face without even needing to see him. “Go make your sandwiches, and call me later. Look that stuff up for me, alright?”

“Yeah, I got it. Will do, Sammy. Okay. Yeah, bye.” Dean hung up the phone.

They spent the next few hours in the library as Dean did some research for Sam, and Dean was happily surprised that Cas hung around with him instead of going back to bed again. He even offered to help, though Dean said he was alright. Cas managed to eat his entire sandwich during the time they spent in the library, taking small bites periodically until the whole thing was gone. 

The rest of the day went by with much of the same, Dean sifting through books and the internet and talking to Sam a few more times, Cas wandering the room or just sitting and watching Dean work. He went off to the bathroom by himself at one point, but he wasn’t gone long enough to cause Dean to worry.

When Dean finally closed the laptop he had open, Cas was practically asleep where he sat, his eyelids drooping and his head hanging low. He blinked and looked up, meeting Dean’s eyes. Dean smiled at him affectionately. 

He took Cas back to bed and stayed with him until he fell asleep, but snuck out of the room soon after, unable to lie still any longer. He poured himself a glass of whiskey and made another sandwich, settling in the library to eat it while he clicked around on the Internet. His thoughts kept drifting back to Cas. 

He was still unsure of where exactly their relationship had gone. Although he hated to admit it, Sam was right; this was bound to happen eventually. But Dean knew that it wasn't a good time to have the conversation with Cas regarding what they were to each other. Either way, Cas seemed comforted by this newly physical relationship they had, and he seemed calmed by Dean's touches. 

It had been a good day for Cas, it seemed. He had been more active, didn't seem to have much back pain. Although he only ate a sandwich and half a poptart, it was more than he'd been interested in eating in the last week. 

Maybe he was getting better. Sam kept saying he needed more time, but maybe it'd been long enough and he was finally starting to get out of this slump. Yeah, two days ago he had a breakdown at the gas station, but maybe that was a one-time thing. 

Dean threw back the last of his whiskey and set the empty glass on the table. He checked his watch and was surprised to see it was already 11:30. Stretching his arms over his head, Dean yawned. He decided he'd fill his glass one more time before heading back to Cas's room. 

He was tipping the whiskey into his glass, thinking about what Cas might want to do the next day when the screams started. 

He jumped to his feet instinctively, muscles tense. The screams were coming from down the hall, behind Cas's bedroom door. 

_Crap. So much for getting better._

Dean took off towards the sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked, leave a comment letting me know what you think :)
> 
> Next chapter should be up by this weekend hopefully.


	5. Dripping Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> camwelgrace.tumblr.com  
> I know, I'm a terrible person and I never get chapters up when I say I'm going to. I need to stop making promises I can't keep. 
> 
> Anyway here we go, this is unbeta'd as usual and it's very late and I have to be up in five hours so there may be more mistakes than usual, my apologies. 
> 
> There is a trigger warning in this chapter for mentions of the previous self harm, as well as strongly implied if not pretty obvious suicidal ideation.

Dean barged into the room, hardly noticing the door slamming into the wall as he threw it open. 

"Cas?"

The blankets were strewn around the bed, Cas entangled in them as he writhed on the mattress. His yells punctuated the room. Dean rushed to him and grabbed at the blankets, trying to get him untangled.

"Cas, bud, you're alright. Wake up. _Cas._ " 

Face drenched in sweat, Cas kept his eyes shut tight. 

"No!" He gasped. "Get away!" 

"Cas, it's Dean! Wake up!" Raising his voice, Dean got the blanket off of him and pulled it off the bed, throwing it to the floor. He grabbed Cas's shoulders. " _Cas!_ " 

Cas's eyes flew open. Dean was only allowed a split second of relief, however, because just as he thought Cas was awake and lucid, he got a fist straight in the nose. 

" _Ah!_ " Dean let go of Cas and stepped back, holding his nose. He didn't think it was broken, but there was more strength behind the punch than he would have imagined there to be, and it made his eyes water. "Cas, what the hell?" 

"Don't touch me! Get away!" Dean's heart sank as Cas cowered against the headboard, his eyes darting from Dean to the open door behind him. 

"You need to snap out of it, Cas. Whatever you're seeing right now, it's not real, alright?" He held out his hands in surrender. "It's just me."

"You're lying," Cas growled. "How'd you get him to say yes?"

"What are you talking about?" 

"You know what I'm talking about! Dean wouldn't say yes for nothing. Did you threaten him? Or Sam?" 

"What - ?" It finally clicked. "You think - you think someone's possessing me? An angel?" 

"Who are you? I've never seen you before." 

Dean took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Cas... You're confused, alright?" He stepped toward the bed, ignoring how Cas shied away into the headboard. "There's no one possessing me, it's just me. Just Dean. No one else in here." 

"You're a liar," Cas growled. His blue eyes were dark and incredibly stormy, reminding Dean of the first time they met. They were merciless, cold, but held a fear behind them that Dean had never seen before he lost his wings. "I can see you. Tell me who you are!" 

Dean ran his hands over his face, unsure of what to do. "Cas," he stepped closer again, holding out his hand. He hated the way Cas looked like an animal caught in a trap, the frantic look of desperation telling Dean he'd do whatever it took to get out. Even if in doing so he caused himself harm. Cas's eyes flicked to the open bedroom door again, which Dean was blocking. "Please, don't do this. You had a nightmare, everything's okay. I'm Dean, just Dean. You're okay, you're safe."

Finally close enough to touch him, Dean reached out towards the cowering man. Just as his fingers brushed the skin on Cas's neck, Cas snapped. Dean jumped when he screamed, and shielded himself with his arms as he was pounced on, Cas clawing at him. 

"Ouch - Cas! Stop!" His bare forearms were covered in scratch marks in seconds as Cas fought desperately to get Dean away from him. "Cas!" 

" _Don't touch me!_ " Cas yelled, blind with fear. Dean was so caught off guard by the sudden onslaught that he stepped back, allowing the gap that Cas needed to scramble out of the bed past him. Just as he got to his feet and made a break for the door, however, Dean caught his wrist. In his haste to get away and free himself from Dean's grip, Cas managed to get his feet caught in the blanket that was on the floor. With a deafening crash and yells from both men, they tumbled to the ground, one after the other. Cas flailed, now trying to escape not only from Dean but from the blanket that was tangled around his ankles.

"No!" He screamed, kicking his legs and clawing again at Dean. "Stop! Let me go!" 

"Cas, that's enough! Don't - _ah!_ " Dean got Cas's fingernails to the face, which left three slashes across his cheek. One barely missed his eye. Finally grabbing hold of Cas's wrists, Dean managed to maneuver himself over the panicking man and pin him down. Cas screamed and screamed, not giving up his kicking and fussing. 

_Holy shit,_ Dean thought. _He's completely hysterical._

"Cas!" He nearly had to scream himself to be loud enough for Cas to hear over his wails. "That's enough! Knock it off! Cas!" His own heart was racing and he felt his own panic start to rise in his chest as Cas fought him. He wished Sam was there. He would've known what to do. 

_I need to snap him out of this,_ he thought. _Shock him back to reality._

He considered giving my a blow across the face but was worried about the effect that would have if it didn't work. He didn't want to give Cas more reason to be afraid, more reason to do whatever he could to get away. If Dean was violent toward him, it might just confirm the man's fear that Dean was being possessed by an angel that was out to get him. 

An idea struck him. "Alright, Cas, we're gonna get off the floor and go across the hall, okay? I need you to get up." He really only said it out of courtesy, knowing Cas wasn't going to cooperate. 

"Okay, up you go." And Dean stood, wrenching Cas to his feet with him. He held Cas tight enough to avoid him getting free and taking off, but was careful not to hurt him as he continued to struggle. A snarl escaped Cas's throat, but Dean ignored him and made his way to the door, pulling Cas along with him. Cas almost got away from him once but Dean managed to get the both of them across the hall. Shoving Cas into the bathroom, Dean stepped in after him and snapped the door shut behind himself. 

Backed against the far wall, Cas stood, chest heaving. He was trapped again, and was clearly seconds away from attacking Dean. Without taking his eyes off the panting man, Dean stepped sideways towards the shower and reached in to turn on the cold water. 

"Cas," Dean attempted to rationalize with him one last time. "It's just Dean. You've gotta believe me, man. I'm not here to hurt you." 

Cas made a break for the door. 

_So much for that,_ Dean thought. 

Dean grabbed Cas around the middle as he tried to shoot by him and dragged him away from the door. Cas put up an incredible fight, leaving more nasty marks on Dean's neck with his fingernails. Dean grit his teeth and hauled Cas towards the running water. 

"In you go," he grunted, avoiding a smack to the head from Cas's fist. Dean tore the curtain out of the way and shepherded Cas into the shower, fully clothed and screaming bloody murder. Once hit by the freezing water, however, all efforts to escape from Dean were forgotten. In contrast, Cas gasped and shied from the spray, slamming back into Dean, who grabbed him by the shoulders. 

"I'm sorry, man, I know, but you gotta go in. Come on, Cas." 

"No, let me go! _Let me go!_ " 

Knowing what he had to do, Dean used his own bulk to push Cas into the shower and under the running water, following after him to prevent his escape. Both men gasped audibly, the water ice cold and stealing the breath from their lungs. 

All Dean could do was hope as he held Cas under the water, hope that it would be enough to shock him back into his senses. When the shorter man made one last attempt to get away, Dean pinned him against the tile wall, barring him there with his arms on either side of him. It took a moment for him to realize that Cas's panicked yelled had turned to sobs, and then Dean was leaning into Cas, his own body the only thing keeping the crying man standing. By then they were both shivering uncontrollably, Cas's teeth chattering audibly as he sobbed and sobbed. 

"Shhh, Cas..." Dean said softly into his ear. "It's alright."

Cas turned in Dean's arms and peered up at him, making Dean hesitate. He wasn't sure if he should raise an arm to protect himself. 

"Dean?" Cas's broken voice sounded through his clacking teeth. The relief that Dean felt in that moment was so strong it made him weak, too weak to hold both himself and Cas on their feet. Cas slid to the floor of the shower and Dean sank down with him. 

"Yeah, bud. It's me, it's just Dean." He reached out and smoothed Cas's soaked hair back out of his eyes, watching him nervously. "Are you okay?"

"Dean..." Cas croaked as his eyes traveled over Dean's face and down his neck. "Was that - did I - "

Dean caught Cas's horror struck face in his hands before he could say any more. "I'm okay. You were scared, and confused. I'm fine."

"Dean, I - I hurt you." 

Shaking his head, Dean reached over and turned on the hot water as far as it would go, worried about Cas's bluing lips. "No, I'm fine," he said firmly, but Cas broke down with renewed sobs just the same. 

The water heated up quickly and Dean's own shivers subsided. Cas's took longer, and Dean waited, sitting on the floor of the shower with Cas pulled against him, his back to his chest. He was unable to see Cas's face, but his body was being wracked so terribly with his crying that he wasn't sure if he was still shivering from the cold. 

“Cas, look at me,” he murmured and reached for Cas’s chin, turning his face towards him. “Are you still cold?”

Cas nodded, sniffling. 

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.” Dean double checked the knobs again to make sure the hot water was indeed all the way up, and he turned the cold down. “I didn't know what else to do. You were panicking, you thought - I just didn’t know - I’m sorry.” 

Cas didn't seem to be listening to him anymore, his eyes a little glazed. “I hurt you…” he said quietly.

“What?” Cas didn't repeat himself. His crying had finally subsided, but his shivering hadn't stopped. An ominous feeling crawled up Dean’s spine as he craned his neck to see Cas’s face. He hated this new blank expression more than the crying. “Here, Cas, take this off. It’s just making you colder.” Looking away from Cas’s face, Dean tugged at his sopping sweatshirt until Cas raised his arms and allowed him to pull it over his head. Dean tossed it on the ground next to them, then pulled his own t-shirt off and slapped it to the floor as well. Without the cold, wet fabric against his skin, he felt the scalding shower water warming him up more effectively. 

They sat, Dean behind Cas, whose eyes stared straight ahead. His breath hitched every now and then with the remnants of the hysterical crying that had passed. Not knowing what else to do, Dean just waited for Cas to warm up again, watching the water beat down on his bare shoulders. The beads of liquid mesmerized him, the way they slid down Cas’s skin, between his shoulder blades and then straight down his spine. Dean found his fingertips trailing over the path the water was taking. He ran his fingers over the plane of Cas’s shoulders as they jumped with his stuttered breath, then down his spinal column with the trails of water. 

“You really scared me there, Cas,” Dean murmured. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on the knot of Cas’s spine at the back of his neck, feeling water dripping off of his own nose and onto Cas’s skin. “You went somewhere and for a while there I didn't know if I was gonna get you back.” A trail of kisses were left down the slope of the side of Cas’s neck, then continued right to the point of his shoulder. Reassured slightly when Cas leaned back into him, Dean let his arms slide around the man and he held him close. Cas dropped his head back on Dean’s shoulder, and Dean rested his chin in the crook of his exposed neck. “Are you alright?” he asked softly. 

He didn’t get a reply. “Cas, please talk to me… Don’t do this again…” His voice cracked, and he hated himself for it. Knowing that the last time Cas got like this, distant and unresponsive, Dean found him sliding razors across his skin, a dull fear settled in his stomach. He turned his head to kiss Cas’s jaw. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered.

Dean watched as Cas’s eyes closed, exhaustion from fear and crying and shivering apparently overtaking him. 

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” Cas whispered. 

Dean froze, his stomach twisting. He said nothing for several moments. “Well, okay, we can get out, if that’s what you want.” Dean knew, deep down, that that’s not what Cas meant, but he tried to avoid the thought and started to get up. “Are you warmed up okay? We can get you in some dry clothes and I’ll come to bed with you, I’ll stay with you. Come on,” he added when Cas didn't move. Finally he just pulled Cas to his feet and shut the water off. “Here, let’s not drip all over the bathroom. Take those sweatpants off, alright?” 

Dean knew what he was doing; trying to fill the silence that was screaming at them after what Cas had said. No fight left in him, Cas just did as he was told, sliding the soaked sweatpants down and stepping out of them in only boxers. Dean did the same for this own and they left them lying on the tile. Dean ushered Cas out of the shower and onto the rug to prevent them creating a puddle. “Take this,” he said, grabbing a towel from the closet and wrapping it around Cas, whose shivers had already returned. Cas held the fluffy towel around himself and stared at the floor. Dean watched him, expression stricken, before grabbing a towel for himself. 

“Okay, let’s go to your room. You've got some clothes in there, right?” He didn't expect an answer and he didn't get one. Regardless, he took Cas’s hand and pulled him across the hall and back into his bedroom. Dean dropped his towel to the floor and went straight to the dresser, grabbing dry boxers for both of them and the warmest hoodies and sweatpants he could find. Returning to Cas, he pulled the towel off of the silent man and pushed clothes into his arms. 

“Change,” he ordered. Cas obeyed, moving mechanically and hardly looking up from the floor as he redressed. Dean pulled the new, dry clothes on faster than Cas had and returned to him to impatiently help him pull his sweatshirt over his head. Finally, they both stood, warm and dry. 

“Wanna get back in bed?” Dean asked softly, ducking his head in a vain attempt to catch Cas’s eyes, which had returned to the carpet. “I won’t leave you, I’ll stay with you all night. I shouldn't have left you before, I’m so sorry.”

At long last, the incredibly tired-looking blue eyes rose from the floor. They didn't meet the green ones searching Cas’s face, however. Instead, they stopped at Dean’s neck, surveying the damage there. Cas swallowed. 

“I did that,” Cas’s voice cracked and his eyes brimmed with tears. Dean held Cas by the arms.

“How many times do I have to tell you? It’s fine. It’s okay, I’m okay.” But Cas just shook his head. “Come,” Dean led him towards the bed. “Lie down with me. I promise, everything’s going to be alright.”

Dean pushed Cas gently into the bed and grabbed the blanket from the floor, tossing it over Cas. He climbed under as well. Cas lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, tears squeezing out of the corners of his eyes and sliding into his ears. He resisted when Dean tried to pull him close, stiffening and turning his face away. Trying not to feel hurt, Dean settled with an arm draped over him. He nuzzled his face in Cas’s damp hair. “It’s okay…” he whispered. 

It felt like hours before Cas’s eyes finally closed and he drifted off, relaxing into the mattress at long last. Determined to stay awake in case Cas had another nightmare, Dean watched his face until he was sure it really had been hours. 

_“I don’t want to be here anymore.”_

The words haunted him. The broken, defeated way Cas had said them made it feel like his lungs were being filled with lead and then torn apart. The words tangled in his dreams, being incorporated in every scene his mind made up. Cas whispering them, Cas relaying them around hysterical sobs. The words were screamed at him in his nightmares and suddenly he bolted upright in bed. 

He’d fallen asleep. How could he let himself do that? What if Cas had panicked again while he was sleeping? He mentally kicked himself, loathing himself for his negligence. Settling back into the pillows and rolling towards Cas, Dean snaked an arm out to wrap around him. His hand found empty space, and his eyes flew open. 

Empty, empty, empty. 

He was alone. Cas was gone. 

_“I don’t want to be here anymore.”_

Dean couldn't stop the words from repeating in his head as he shot from the bed and out of the room in his bare feet. He slammed into the bathroom, expecting the worst, his stomach in knots, but:

Empty. 

Down the hall, through the kitchen. Nothing. 

He barged into the library. His eyes followed the stairs upward to find the door hanging open, chilly air blowing down into the bunker, pitch darkness outside. 

_No,_ Dean thought.

Cas was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is near I believe. Thanks for reading! Next chapter will be up eventually, but I'm making no promises as to when this time, lol. 
> 
> Leave a comment to let me know what you think! I <3 you guys.  
> -Camel


	6. Promising Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> camwelgrace.tumblr.com
> 
> Wow, okay. Guys. I'm so sorry. I know this chapter's taken an INCREDIBLY long time, and I apologize profusely. I've had terrible writer's block and 0 motivation lately, and this chapter really gave me some trouble. I hope you guys still enjoy it. It's slightly longer than usual as a token of my apologies. I promise the next one won't take as long! <3  
> *Trigger warning here for suicidal actions/inclinations   
> (plz ignore any mistakes, errors, all that jazz -thx, mngmt)

Dean's shoulders heaved as he struggled to fill his lungs with air. Panic had crawled up from his stomach and it felt like it was gripping his throat from the inside, a vice that was cutting off his windpipe and making him lightheaded. 

_No, no, no, no, no,_ he thought as he crashed through the bunker until he found his cell phone. He dialed Sam's number with trembling hands and held it to his ear. It was several moments until he realized that Sam had picked up and had said his name more than once. 

"Dean? _Dean!_ " 

"Sammy!" He finally managed to gasp out. 

"Dean, what's going on? Are you okay?"

"I - " He paced, raking a hand through his hair and leaving it on the back of his head. His chest was incredibly tight and he had to keep himself from doubling over. 

"Okay, breathe. Breathe, Dean." Sam's voice was calm and reassuring in Dean's ear and he did everything he could to focus on it. "Tell me what's happening." There was rustling on Sam's side of the line that sounded like he was rushing around a room, moving things. 

"Cas - " Dean bent over and leaned heavily on the table, his fingers splayed out on the wood. "He's gone - Cas is gone." He took another shuddering breath. "He had a nightmare - it was bad, he - and I fell asleep - I didn't - he's gone, oh, God, Sam, I - "

"Dean." Sam interrupted his panicked stuttering. "I'm coming back right now, okay? I can make it in a little over three hours. Take a deep breath, and talk to me. Do you have any idea where he might go?"

"He - Sam, he - he said - oh, God," His mind was everywhere, scrambled, bits and pieces of thought thrumming over one another. 

_"I don't want to be here anymore."_

The one sentence that stood out in his head, heard through the clutter and white noise of his panicked brain. 

" _Dean._ What did Cas say?"

"He wants to kill himself, Sam, he - he was doing okay, but this nightmare, it - he freaked out, fuck, and he's gone - "

He heard Sam curse softly through the phone. It was quiet for a minute and Dean used the opportunity to get his breathing under control. "Alright, well, he's on foot, right? So he couldn't have gotten very far. Look, I know you want to find him but I think you should wait for me, you're in no state to be - "

"Three hours! I can't wait three hours, Sam, I can't - !" 

"Alright, Dean, alright! I'm getting in the car now. You need to calm down before you leave the bunker, you're not thinking clearly. If I haven't heard from you by the time I get on the interstate, I'll call you, okay? And you call me if you find him."

"I - okay."

"Dean?"

"What?"

"It's gonna be okay. We'll find him." 

Dean opened his mouth to respond but no sound came out, so he hung up the phone. He took one deep, shuddering breath, trying to form a plan in his head. Once his heartbeat slowed to as normal a rate as it was going to be, he made his way back to his bedroom. After quickly changing into jeans and grabbing his jacket off of the headboard, he yanked open the drawer of his nightstand where he kept his Colt. He shuffled some stuff around. It wasn't in there. 

_What the hell?_ He was positive this was where he put it after cleaning it. This was where he always put it. Dean couldn't help hearing his dad's angry voice in his head, chastising him for misplacing his weapon. Shutting the drawer, he opened the one beneath it. It wasn't there either. 

A dull, creeping feeling of unease settled in his stomach. 

_"I don't want to be here anymore."_

His heart already starting to pound again in his chest, Dean rushed to his dresser and threw open drawer after drawer, tossing things out. No Colt. He slammed the last drawer, hard. 

"Fuck!" Dean couldn't help the tears that pooled in his eyes and his gripped the hair on the back of his head. "God dammit, Cas!" 

He grabbed his cell phone off the dresser and he tore from the room, yanking his jacket on as he went. Taking the bunker stairs three at a time, Dean leapt up to the landing and was out in the darkness seconds later. He didn't even bother locking the door behind himself. 

***

The night was cool, on the chilly side when the breeze blew, and incredibly clear. Out in the middle of nowhere where the bunker sat, the stars were virtually endless, the moon a tiny waxing sliver that hardly provided any light. 

Dean's heart was in his throat. He couldn't help but expect any minute to hear the deafening sound of a gunshot somewhere far off, his own Colt the traitorous device to make the sound. He found himself running down a dirt road, one he was sure he had been on already. His panic now more like blind desperation, he knew he was in no state to find, let alone follow, a trail Cas may have left. 

His phone rang from his pocket, startling him and making him stumble. As he pulled it out with trembling hands, its sharp cries pierced the night around him. Breathing heavy, he stopped and put it to his ear. 

"Sam?" He clutched a stitch in his side. 

"Anything?" 

"No, I haven't - no. Nothing."

"Dammit." The sound of Sam slapping the steering wheel came across the line, and Dean didn't even think about saying anything about his rough treatment of Baby. "Alright, I'm hauling ass your way and I think I'll make good time. Where are you right now?" 

"I - I'm not really sure. I'm on a dirt road? I think about a mile from the bunker." Dean spun, looking all around him. "What if he's in the complete other direction? And I've wasted all this time? And he's - and he's - "

"Don't do this, Dean. Freaking out isn't gonna help. Take a breath." Dean did as he was told. "I know the road you're talking about. You crossed a bridge, right? Over the river?"

"I - no? No, I don't think I did - "

"You've probably not gone that far yet... I've been over there. You have, too, remember? We drove through that way coming back from Bobby's with Cas, three weeks ago. There's a bridge over the river, and a big hill. Shute airport isn't far north from there, it's a spot for sky-gazing and plane-watching - "

"Cas is there." Dean’s voice was suddenly strong and sure. 

"What?" 

"He's there, I just know it."

"You just know it? How? Dean, are you - "

"I'm sure. He's a fallen angel, right? He misses heaven. And the stars out here, they're - looking up at them is the closest to heaven you can get. He's gotta be there." 

"Okay... Head that way. Let me know if you find him. I'll meet you around there if I don't hear from you." 

"Okay," Dean started back down the road again, in the direction he was headed before. He thought about mentioning the gun to Sam, telling him that Cas had taken it, but he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. "Okay," he said again instead. They both hung up. 

He broke out into a run again, his boots making way too much noise in the dirt. It felt like he was running forever and he was starting to think Sam had been wrong, there was no bridge, no hill, just winding dirt, when he turned a bend. The looming, metal framework of a bridge came into view. The ground to the left of it sloped steeply upward, creating a large knoll that looked over the river below. Seeing it, even in the dark, Dean remembered passing it all those weeks ago, Sam in the passenger seat and Cas sitting silent in the back. He remembered how the hill had indeed attracted people to lie on blankets and stare up as planes flew by, and maybe one or two people had a kite. 

Dean slowed to a walk and squinted through the darkness. "Come on, Cas, where are you?" He muttered. 

He has to be here. He has to be here. 

There was no one. He walked to the mouth of the dark bridge and gazed down it; all he saw were the wooden panels of the deck, stretching away from him. There was no Cas, all the way down. 

The feeling of defeat hit him like a train. Dean grabbed the side of the bridge and slumped to his knees on the wood, clutching the cold metal with his arms over his hanging head. "No, no, no..." Cas could be anywhere, he could be in the complete other direction, or he could already be - 

Dean's head shot up at a strange sound. It was muffled, but definitely sounded like crying. He scrambled to his feet and walked toward the hill, where he could have sworn the sound was coming from. Standing at the base of the hill, he strained his eyes through the darkness. Was that...? 

"Cas?" He called, his heart thudding. The sound stopped and the shadow of a figure that he thought he saw sitting on the peak of the hill moved. 

"Dean - "

"Cas! Cas, what - " Dean started the make his way up the hill, feeling lightheaded with relief. 

"No, Dean, stop," the figure on top of the hill stood. "Please, _stop!_ " Dean froze when the moonlight glinted off the barrel of his Colt in Cas's hand.

His heart thrumming in his ears, Dean held out his hands, palms up. "Cas..."

"What are you doing here? How did you find me?" Cas was trembling, visible even in the dark and from where Dean stood. Eyes glued on the gun, Dean very slowly started up the side of the hill again. 

"Cas, you scared the shit out of me disappearing like that. I'm here to help." 

"I don't want - I can't - Dean, _I said stop!_ " 

"No, you stop, Cas!" Nevertheless, Dean stopped his ascent, afraid of what Cas might do. "Put the gun down." He tried to keep his voice even and calm. "Put it down, and we can talk it over."

Cas sobbed, and didn't drop the gun from his shaking hand. "Dean, I hurt you, I - "

"Would you shut up about hurting me? You scratched me, I'm fine. Let's go home." 

"That's what I'm trying to do, Dean!" The words seemed to have been punched out of him, and Cas stood with his chest heaving after they passed his lips. 

The blood rushed out of Dean's face as he felt himself pale and he stood staring up at Cas. "No, Cas..."

Cas sobbed again. "This isn't - I can't - being human, I - " What little moonlight there was reflected off the Colt again as Cas waved the arm holding it. Dean flinched. 

"I know," Dean said, his voice low with caution. "I know. It's not easy, but you can't - this isn't the way, Cas. You can get through this, I can help - "

"You can't! Dean, you don't know! You don't know what it's like - being in heaven, being an angel, and then having it all taken..." His breath was coming out in gasps as Cas got himself more and more worked up. He pressed his fists to his forehead, gun still in hand, making Dean lurch forward with an arm stretched toward him in alarm. 

"Cas! I need you to drop the gun." Heart in his throat, Dean's hands shook with fearful anticipation. The way Cas was handling the gun, waving it around and holding it near his face, was making him incredibly nervous. Cas, however, didn't even seem to be talking to Dean anymore, but was rather rambling to himself. 

"My grace is gone. My wings - gone, ripped from my body, I can't get into contact with any of my brother or sisters, I f-feel so alone! I'm alone in my head and it - I - " He fell to his knees in the grass. 

Dean had begun sneaking up the hill again as Cas ranted on, slowly making his way towards the mess of a man. 

"I can't do this!" Cas suddenly yelled, and the gun shook violently as he raised it and pressed the end of the barrel to his temple. 

"Cas, _NO!_ Put it down! Drop the gun!" Heart threatening to beat out of his chest, Dean stopped once again, not wanting to rush up to Cas in the position he was in. Both of their chests rose and fell rapidly. 

The eyes of a defeated, broken man peered up at Dean from Cas's face, his lower lip trembling and tears streaming down his face. He gripped the handle of the gun tightly and eyed Dean as he began to again creep forward cautiously. 

"Don't do this, Cas. Don't. Me and Sam, we don't want - we _can't_ lose you. _I_ can't lose you. Do you hear me? _I can't._ " Now at arm's length from Cas, Dean slowly held out his hand. "Give me the gun. Don't do this." 

Cas stared wildly at Dean for several heart-wrenching moments before he broke down all together. His eyes squeezed shut and he sobbed loudly, and he gave himself a frustrated smack on the temple with the barrel of the gun. He couldn't do it, his finger wouldn't pull the trigger. Dean could see that now and he used the opportunity to rush forward and grab the gun, pointing it away from either of them and twisting it out of Cas's grip. Flicking on the safety and tossing the gun aside, Dean slid to his knees in front of Cas. He grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled the wailing man into his own arms. 

“I know, bud… I know.” Dean spoke softly, powerful feelings of relief and sadness and exhaustion making his eyes prickle threatening. He tucked Cas’s head under his chin and let him cry, rubbing one hand over his shaking back. “Shh, I’ve gotcha, Cas. You’re alright….”

Cas clung to the front of Dean’s jacket and cried into his collarbone, his breath hitching forcefully. He tried to speak but only stuttered wetly. 

"Shh, don't, Cas. Don't, I know." Dean kissed Cas's hair and then rested his cheek on the top of his head. 

They sat for several minutes like that, Dean letting Cas sob and sob into his chest until he finally started to settle down. His sobs came at less frequent intervals as he got his breathing under control. Finally, after what felt like hours, Cas's wails were reduced to sniffles. Dean continued to rock him gently, up there on the hill in the middle of the night, the stars shining infinitely through the dark and the grass rustling in the breeze. He had pried Cas's hands off the front of his jacket at one point and shook it off of himself to wrap it around Cas's trembling shoulders instead. 

"I need you to know something, Cas," Dean murmured into Cas's hair. Cas sniffed in response. "Listen to me, okay?" Cas nodded almost imperceptibly against Dean, and Dean ran his fingers gently through his hair. "Being human isn't easy. Trust me, I know it's not. But you are _never_ alone, Cas. _Never._ You've got Sam, and you've got me." 

Cas said nothing and Dean let him sit silently, waiting for him to speak when he was ready. 

"I see angels everywhere..." Cas finally murmured into Dean's shirt. 

Dean sighed very softly. "I know... And it's really hard for you, understandably so. But this - coming out here, taking off, and with the gun - " His throat closed and the backs of his eyes burned again and Dean took a breath before continuing. "This isn't the way, Cas. You scared the living shit out of me, I thought - I thought - " Dean broke off, unable to continue, squeezing his eyes shut. 

Loosening his grip on Cas when he felt him pull away slightly, Dean looked down to find wide, strikingly blue, tear-rimmed eyes peering up at him. 

"Dean, I'm sorr - "

"Don't apologize." Dean couldn't handle this new expression of guilt that was mixing with the pain on Cas's face. "You don't have to apologize. I don't want you to feel guilty, you just - Cas, you have to promise me..." He sifted his fingers through Cas's hair again, letting his thumb skim over his cheek. "You have to promise you won't do this again, alright? I can't deal with that, thinking that you - " He broke off yet again, hating himself for being unable to get the words out. Cas seemed to understand, and he reached up and wrapped his fingers around Dean's hand that was resting on the side of his own head. 

"I won't hurt you, Dean." Cas spoke solemnly, his eyes level with the green of Dean's, and he nodded slowly. "I promise, I don’t… I don’t want to do something that will hurt you."

“So next time, when you’re feeling like you were tonight, you’re gonna come to me, alright? No excuses. You are not alone, Cas.” Dean had Cas’s face trapped in his hands to enforce eye contact. “I’m here. Always.” Cas nodded reverently, swallowing. 

 

“I promise,” he said very quietly. There was still pain in his blue eyes, that look that seemed to be faded some days but was always there. There was pain, but there was loyalty, and Dean trusted Cas to keep a promise. 

They looked at each other for a long moment more before Dean pulled Cas close again, mainly so he could hide his tears that finally managed to spill over, getting trapped in his eyelashes as he blinked rapidly in a vain attempt to stop them. Cas’s arms slid around Dean’s back and they held each for an immeasurable amount of time, Dean’s eyes still occasionally leaking into Castiel’s dark, ruffled hair. 

“I’m gonna make you a promise, too, okay, Cas?” Dean finally murmured after some time. He tipped his head back to catch Cas’s gaze, which came up somewhat curiously through his drying lashes. 

“Okay… What promise?” Cas reached up and thumbed a tear off Dean’s face under his eye, Dean trying to ignore the tiny speck of guilt on Cas’s face as he did so. 

“I’m gonna prove something to you, okay?” He looked down at Cas resolutely, his jaw suddenly set in determination. “I’m gonna prove to you that being a human isn’t the worst thing. There’s good to it, and I’m gonna show it to you.”

Cas’s head quirked to the side a little, giving him a look that actually made Dean’s spirits lift fractionally. He looked inquisitive and childlike, becoming more grounded as he sat in Dean’s arms as the last of his panic drained from him. 

“You’re gonna show me how to be human?” Cas asked. 

“I’m gonna show you the good parts of being a human. I’m gonna need your cooperation, though, alright? We’ll compromise. I know some days are harder than others, and we can take days off and lay in bed for as long as you want.” His hands smoothed Cas’s hair off of his forehead. “We can put the hunting off for a while, let Sam take some easy cases without us. We’re gonna get you back on your feet, alright? Wings or not, you’re gonna be alright.”

Cas swallowed and just looked up at Dean with wide eyes, and Dean could practically see the gears turning in his brain as he thought it over. After chewing his lip for a moment, Cas finally spoke, very quietly. “Will you teach me how to skip rocks?”

Dean stared at Cas’s open, imploring expression for a second before chuckling abruptly, warmth suddenly flowing through him. He didn’t let the feeling overwhelm him, however, forcing himself to remain cautiously optimistic. “Yeah, Cas. I’ll teach you how to skip rocks.” He smiled down at Cas and was rewarded by Cas’s mouth twitching upward tentatively back at him. “I’ll teach you to skip rocks, and I’ll show you the best breakfast burritos you’ll ever eat. And we’ll get every flavor of Poptarts they make.”

Cas’s small smile turned a little sheepish and Dean’s own only spread wider. “I think I would like that,” Cas said. 

“Yeah?” Dean couldn’t help but lean forward and give Cas a quick and reserved peck on the mouth, loving the smile that he hadn’t seen on it in so long. “Alright, it’s a deal, then. We’ve both got our promises, okay? You keep yours, and I’ll keep mine.”

“Okay,” Cas said, nodding slightly, and reaching to take Dean’s hand again, tangling their fingers.

“Sam’s on his way back. We can start walking towards the bunker if you want, or just wait here for him…” Dean’s thumb brushed over the skin on the back of Cas’s hand.

“Can we stay? I want to… I want to just look up for a little bit, if that’s okay...” Cas asked quietly, and Dean nodded. 

“Of course.”

The two of them settled into the grass on their backs, their shoulders pressed together and hands still clasped tightly. Laying there under the heavens, despite the universe pulsing brightly above them, Dean found himself looking at Cas more than he was looking at the stars. He watched Cas’s wide eyes and unbarred expression, his eyes shining under the light of the sky. He couldn’t help but wonder what Cas was thinking, hoping whatever it was weren’t painful thoughts. Cas had been right, about one thing at least. Dean really didn’t know what it was like, to be flung from heaven and closed off to everything that he knew, everything that made sense, everything that made him him. He wasn’t sure just how profound Cas’s feelings and thoughts may have been as he stared up at the heavens at what used to be his home, from this much reduced and separate human body. 

Whatever Cas may be thinking, or feeling, Dean had made a promise, and he clenched his jaw, eyebrows furrowing with another wave of determination. He would help Cas. He would show Cas the good parts of being human, the parts that urge people to get out of bed in the morning. The parts that made the wretched insignificance that is the hamartia of humanity, worthwhile. He would save him. 

Dean’s expression softened as Cas’s head turned and his eyes drifted away from the sky and fell on Dean. Their eyes searched the face of the other, lying there on the hill, the breeze making the grass tickle their ears. 

“Dean?” Cas’s voice was soft but it sounded loud in the quiet night, although not disruptively so. 

“Yeah, Cas?”

“Thank you.” Cas sounded so sincere, so heart-wrenchingly thankful, Dean felt his throat tighten a little. When the corner of Cas’s mouth twitched upward again, Dean’s breath even hitched slightly. Dean gave him a small smile in return, not feeling as if he needed to say anything. Instead, he gave Cas’s hand a little squeeze and they both looked back up at the sky. 

He would save him. Dean was sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as I start the wrap this up, I know there are a few of you that have been following this fic along (which is amazing, I'm so glad you guys like it) and I wanted to ask if any of you have anything you'd like to see before the fic ends. Any particular scene, or you'd like to see something addressed, I'd love to hear from you and will try to work it in (as long as it makes sense and doesn't stray too far from what's happening). I was thinking about only having one chapter left, but if you guys make enough suggestions or get me inspired for something more, it may go on longer. Let me know in the comments! 
> 
> As always, thanks so much for reading. I love all of you. <33  
> -Camel


	7. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> camwelgrace.tumblr.com
> 
> Well, here it is, the final chapter! I know it took a while to get published, but I promised you guys a long one, and it turned out to be a hell of a lot longer than I initially thought. 
> 
> For dealing with all of the angst that was basically this entire fic, I gift all of you lovely people with the fluffiest chapter of them all. Thank you to everyone who gave suggestions, I'm sure you'll notice that many of them were added. (I learned so much about bees when I was writing this) Also, you may have noticed the change in rating. If that upsets you...sorry. If it doesn't... ;)
> 
> Love you guys, thanks always for reading, and don't mind any mistakes. :)

"Would you quit hovering over me like that? You're making me nervous. Go sit down." Dean motioned towards a chair that sat on the other side of the island counter with the knife he had in his hand. "You're like a vulture."

"I am not," Cas quietly grumbled, but he obeyed, abandoning his place from behind Dean's shoulder and going around to plop in the chair. He only sat still for less than a minute before he stood to drag the chair up to the counter, Dean glancing at him. Sitting again, Cas folded arms on the countertop and rested his chin on them to watch Dean work. 

Strewn over the counter were countless Poptart boxes, torn open and left with their contents spilling across the stainless steel. Sam had picked up one of every kind that the store stocked. Dean periodically reached for the next one as he cut them into fourths, the plate he was putting them on already piled high and organized by flavor. 

It was the afternoon, the day after Sam had picked Dean and Cas up from where they were laying on the hill following the incident with the Colt. Cas had seemed shaken and quiet on the way home, but not as though he was shutting down like he'd done before. He just had sat in the passenger's seat of the Impala, apparently lost in thought. He'd leaned into Dean's touch when Dean had reached forward from where he'd sat behind Cas and squeezed his shoulder, giving Dean the reassurance he needed. He could get Cas through this, as long as Cas put in the effort and wanted to get better. 

Upon getting home, Sam had pulled Cas into a hug, which after a moment's hesitation, Cas had returned. Dean held onto the hope blooming in his chest as he had led Cas to his own room and onto his memory-foam bed, where they stayed wrapped around each other until long after the sun came up. When they'd finally gotten out of bed, Dean announced they would be spending the afternoon trying as many Poptart flavors as they could. Sam made the trip to get them and then made himself scarce, leaving Dean and Cas alone. 

Castiel's hair was still ruffled from sleep from where he sat watching. He huffed impatiently. 

"Alright, alright, this is the last one. Don't huff at me like that." Dean scooped up the Poptart pieces and arranged them on the plate with the others. "Vulture," he mumbled, tossing a little smirk at Cas. Dean got a half-hearted glare from Cas in return as he made his way around the island with the Poptarts to meet him. Pulling up his own chair, Dean sat facing Cas and set down the plate next to them. 

Cas reached for a Poptart. 

"Hey, hands off!" Dean grabbed Cas's wrist, careful to avoid his bandages (which desperately needed rewrapping after two days and being under the shower, Dean noticed), and pulled his hand away. "We're doing this the right way, no snatching." 

"The right way?" Cas squinted at him, eyebrows drawn together. "They're Poptarts."

"Poptarts deserve proper taste-testing etiquette, Cas. They're a respectable pastry." Dean was rewarded with a small smile from Cas at that. 

"Okay," Cas said, folding his hands in his lap. "How exactly does 'proper taste-testing etiquette' work?" He cocked his head to the side a little, and Dean's own mouth spread into a smile at the endearing look he was receiving. 

"You gotta close your eyes," Dean scanned over the Poptart pieces until he found one that looked satisfactory and he picked it up. "And I'll give it to you to try." 

Cas rolled his eyes, but Dean saw through his mock annoyance to the amused look underneath. Eyes closed, Cas held out his hand. 

"No, no," Dean pushed Cas's hand away. "Open your mouth." 

Cas's eyes shot open, his eyebrows raised and his shoulders sagging in exasperation. "Seriously?" 

"Seriously! This is how it works, Cas, I don't make the rules." Dean offered a shrug. He grinned at Cas, who eyed him suspiciously for a long moment before finally huffing again. Cas gave Dean a pointed look before closing his eyes again and opening his mouth. 

With a self-satisfied smirk, Dean allowed himself a long look at Cas's face. He was grateful for Cas not being able to see him, or the way he was outright staring at Cas's lips. Glancing down at the Poptart piece in his hand, Dean lifted it to Cas's mouth and slid it onto his tongue. He tried not to think about the way his fingertips brushed Cas's lower lip, and he pulled his hand away. 

Cas chewed, his eyebrows pulled together in the middle in what looked adorably like concentration. Noting the fact that he just thought Cas adorable, Dean forced himself not to lean in and kiss him right then. _Really_ kiss him, which he hadn't done since that first night in Cas's bed. Yeah, they kissed in the kitchen yesterday, but it hadn't lasted long. And was that really yesterday? It felt like weeks ago. 

"Well?" Dean asked. His voice came out a little husky and he cleared his throat as he tore his eyes from Cas's mouth. The dark-haired man bobbed his head in a nod, his eyes still shut obediently. 

"Tastes like strawberries." 

Dean cracked a smile. "Yeah, that was strawberry. You like it?" 

One of Cas's shoulders went up and down in half a shrug and he nodded again. "I like it."

Dean picked up another. "Okay, here's another one."

He waited for Cas to swallow and open his mouth. Fiddling with the poptart in his hands, Dean found himself staring again. He stared for so long this time, distracted by Cas's ruffled hair and trusting expression and his _lips_ , that Cas cracked one eye open. 

"Dean?" Cas eyed him, suddenly looking a little self-conscious. 

"Hey, eyes closed!" Dean reached out and put a hand over Cas's eyes, mostly to hide from him the aggressive blush that just rushed up his neck. His hand was swatted away. 

"Okay, okay, they're closed!" Cas squeezed his eyes shut again. 

"Open your mouth." Cas obeyed, and Dean pointedly did _not_ stare as he fed Cas the next piece, avoiding touching Cas's lips this time. "How's that one?" He asked while Cas chewed. 

Cas nodded, looking more pleased with this piece. "I like it. What is it?" 

Dean reached over and grabbed its box, flipping it to read the front. "That was 'brown sugar cinnamon.' You like that one better than the strawberry?" 

"Mmmm," Cas replied, making Dean chuckle. 

They continued, Cas keeping his eyes shut for the most part and Dean doing what he could to not stare at Castiel's mouth too long. Dean found that he could tell almost immediately whether or not Cas liked one of the flavors by his face alone, and was getting huge pleasure out of watching his open expression. He was more often than not trying to suppress a laugh. 

Cas liked the chocolate chip cookie dough, wasn't a huge fan of the blueberry, and when Dean fed him the red velvet, his eyes actually popped open in disgust. He shook his head vigorously and Dean held out a napkin, laughing. 

"Here, spit it out."

Instead of taking the napkin himself, however, Cas leaned forward and spit the chewed up Poptart into it while Dean held it. 

"Oh, ew, Cas! What the hell - _gross!_ " Dean laughed incredulously, his hands cupped under the chewed-Poptart-filled napkin.

"I don't like that." Cas gave the Poptart a resentful look, his nose scrunched in distaste. 

"Yeah, I kinda figured that." Dean shook his head and balled up the napkin, setting it on the counter. "You are a savage." 

"I am not! You won't let me feed myself, I figured you wouldn't let me do that myself either." 

"Yeah, you're right, I _wanted_ your chewed up food spit into my hands." Dean shook his head again in good-humored disbelief. "Gross." 

Cas glared, looking a little embarrassed. "I didn't - "

"I'm just messing with you, Cas, you're fine. Shut your eyes, ya savage. We still have a few more." 

Cas gave Dean his squintiest look while Dean continued to chuckle before finally closing his eyes once more. 

"You're an ass," Cas said with his eyes shut, only making Dean chortle. 

"Whatever, eat this. It's s'more flavored," Dean said, and he grabbed a Poptart piece off the plate and pushed it into Cas's mouth. 

Having not been prepared to have the food shoved at him, Cas leaned away with a surprised sound, his eyes flying open. The Poptart hung out of his mouth and he grabbed it, biting off part of it. He took the other half of it in his hand and turned his head to glare at Dean, who was openly guffawing, almost doubled over in his chair with raucous laughter. 

"That was rude, you ass! You eat it!" Cas took the rest of the piece and shoved it in Dean's open mouth, muffling his laughter. Dean grabbed Cas's hand to stop him but it was too late. Cas grinned triumphantly. "How's that for proper taste-testing etiquette?"

Dean's laughs were reduced to chuckles again and he chewed the Poptart, admitting defeat. "Screw proper taste-testing etiquette." 

They fell silent and looked at each other, Dean still holding onto Cas's hand from when he tried to stop him from shoving the Poptart in his mouth. The only sound was of them chewing and swallowing, and Dean found his eyes wandering down to Cas's lips again. Dammit. He flicked them back up only to find Cas staring at his own mouth. Their eyes met again, Cas's shining blue with the smile that was still ghosting his face, and that was it. They closed the space between them, both leaning in to meet in middle and pressing their mouths together. 

Castiel made a surprised noise in the back of his throat when Dean grabbed the sides of his chair and pulled it towards himself, causing an awful screeching sound as it was dragged across the floor. Leaning close and still gripping the chair on either side of Cas's thighs, Dean felt his left knee being pushed painfully into the edge of Cas's seat but he hardly cared, trying desperately to get closer. 

Not wanting to make Cas uncomfortable or do something he wouldn't like but at the same time being desperate to touch him, taste him, Dean parted his lips. He slipped his tongue out and swiped it once over Cas's lips and was rewarded when Cas opened his mouth and met his tongue with his own, filling Dean with pleasant surprise. A gravelly noise of his own erupted from his throat as Castiel's hands found his hair, carding through it and holding fist-fulls, using it to pull Dean impossibly closer. 

Castiel gave a particularly rough tug and Dean snickered into his mouth, again surprised by Cas's boldness. In retaliation, Dean tipped his head slightly and nipped at Cas's lower lip - not hard, but not exactly gently either. The reaction he got was not what he expected. 

" _Mmph!_ " Dean exclaimed into Cas's mouth as Cas suddenly climbed into his lap, straddling his hips without breaking the kiss. Dean grinned against his lips and deepened the kiss hungrily. He could get used to this side of Cas. The way Cas's fingernails scraped his scalp made him shiver, and his own hands found their way up the back of Cas's large t-shirt, smoothing over his skin and up and down his spine and pulling him flush against his chest. Both of them groaned simultaneously, rugged sounds from deep in their chests. It wasn't until Cas leaned too far into Dean in an attempt to press their bodies even more firmly together and Dean's chair tipped back that they finally broke apart. 

Both of their eyes shot open and Dean flung his arm out with a " _Woah!_ " and grabbed the edge of the counter to prevent them from toppling backwards onto the floor. The chair landed back on all four legs with a bang, Cas clutching Dean's shoulders to keep his balance. 

Once the chair was sturdy and upright once more, they looked at each other. Both Dean and Cas were panting, chests heaving as they stared at one another with wide eyes. Just as Dean opened his mouth to say something, although he had no idea what he was going to say, Cas's face suddenly spread into a wide grin. A laugh escaped Cas, sharp and quick, as if he wasn't sure exactly how to. Then, another. Within seconds, Cas was cracking up, eyes shut with the force of his laughter. Dean couldn’t help but laugh with him, watching in awe at this new and amazing expression on Cas's face as the ex-angel leaned back, clutching his stomach. He lost his balance again and almost fell backwards, grabbing onto Dean's shirt for support. That only made him laugh harder. 

Cas's laughs finally died down and he wiped a teary eye with the back of a finger. Once under control, he looked down at Dean again, smiling. After a moment, he leaned in and gave him another kiss, which Dean returned immediately. It was slower, not as desperately hungry as the last, their tongues meeting briefly before Cas pulled away with another chuckle. Dean raised his eyebrows. 

"You taste like s'mores." Cas growled, dragging a hand through Dean's hair and twining his other arm around his neck. Dean grinned and pulled him more securely onto his lap, his hands laced behind Cas's back. 

"So do you." He didn't stop himself from staring at Cas's lips this time. 

"You know," Cas gave Dean another lingering peck on the mouth. "I think the s'mores flavor is my favorite," he murmured close to Dean's lips. 

"Yeah..." Dean hummed back, "I'm gonna have to agree with you," and he stretched up to again capture Cas's mouth with his own. 

***

Cas still had his bad days. They usually followed one of his particularly bad nights, when nightmares struck so severely that he could barely stop trembling enough to even lie down. Nightmares themselves were a pretty regular occurrence, but every once in a while Castiel would have one that would nearly incapacitate him, leaving Dean feeling useless and lost as he held his shaking form and murmured what he hoped were reassuring things to him. Cas would never say what exactly was happening in these dreams to have such an effect on him, and Dean never pried - he wasn’t all that sure he wanted to know. As bad as it sounded, Dean was always somewhat relieved when Cas’s dreams were _really_ bad, because then the aftermath of them wouldn’t last as long. The more worked up Cas was, the sooner he would exhaust himself with the panicking and fall back asleep. As long as he didn’t attack Dean like he had that first time, Dean could handle it. 

As promised, Dean compromised on his deal with Cas. On the bad days, Dean let him make all the choices for the day, and didn’t push him to do anything he didn’t want to. Most of the time, this meant the two of them would stay in bed for a good part of the day and maybe wander around the bunker in the evening before Cas found his way back to bed, Dean following loyally.

Sometimes good days would turn into bad days, regardless of whether or not there was a bad dream the night before. There was one afternoon that had started out pretty well; Cas was interested in eating, which was slowly becoming more of a common thing, and he’d listened to Sam explain how to use the cell phone they got for him. The first text he sent was a winky-faced emoticon to Dean, which he seemed incredibly pleased with. 

His demeanor changed completely, however, when Dean sat him down on the lid of the toilet and gently removed his bandages. Underneath, his cuts were at the scabby stage where oxygen was the best thing for them.

“I’m gonna leave these off, you don’t need them anymore.” Dean tossed the old bandages in the garbage and turned back to see Cas staring at his arms. His eyes were wide as they roamed over his own skin, taking in the sight of the healing marks with an odd expression on his face that Dean found unsettling. “Cas?” 

“It’s strange,” Cas had said, talking more to himself than to Dean. “This healing process, it’s...very slow. And itchy.”

Dean went back over and knelt in front of him, ducking his head to look up into his face. “Yeah, I know, it’s not fun. But they’re looking a lot better. Just make sure you don’t pick at the scabs.”

Cas said nothing and continued to stare.

“Cas?”

It was as if he didn’t see or hear Dean at all. For the rest of that day, Cas didn’t speak, or eat. All he did was stare at his arms, and sometimes he would skim lightly over his scabs with his fingertips. Finally, when they were in bed later, Dean was so weirded out by Cas’s behavior that he had taken his wrists in his hands and kissed Cas’s arms, over the scars old and new. He’d then folded Cas’s arms against his chest and pulled the man into his own arms, not loosening his hold until Castiel’s breathing evened out and he was sure he was asleep. 

However, thankfully, when Cas had a bad day it would more often than not turn into a good day. Because bad days usually meant back pain, and back pain meant backrubs from Dean. If Cas didn't fall asleep during the dimly-lit massage (which he sometimes did), Dean's hands gently and expertly mapping out his muscles and extinguishing his phantom pains, backrubs often led to Dean's mouth replacing his hands. He would leave kisses all over Cas's skin, creating trails of affection and devotion across his shoulder blades and down the column of his spine. 

This would almost always lead to Cas rolling over and they would gaze at each other through the low light, Dean hovering over Cas with his arms braced around him. Their mouths would find each other and they would spend the following hours kissing. Dean would whisper things to him until Cas was smiling again, and a lot of times his uplift in mood led him to express an interest in getting up and doing things, maybe eating something. Although, sometimes, it made Cas and Dean both want nothing more than to stay in bed together for as long as they could. 

It was after a day like this one that found Dean and Cas in the bathroom, Dean sitting on the toilet lid and Cas in front of the mirror as they brushed their teeth. Though they'd only just gotten out of bed, it was almost evening. 

Dean got up to spit just as Cas leaned close to the mirror, eyebrows furrowed. 

"What is that?" He asked, lowering his toothbrush and tilting his head as he peered at his reflection. 

Dean rinsed his mouth and straightened up to look into the mirror at Cas. Seeing what Cas was looking at, he turned away from his reflection to face real-life Cas and get a better view of his neck. 

"Oh," Dean chuckled and dropped his toothbrush into the cup on the counter. "Sorry about that."

Cas reached up and touched the nickel-sized, mottled red mark a few inches below his ear. "You did that? What is it?" He rubbed at it and turned to face Dean, who was grinning at him. 

"It's a hickey, Cas." Tucking his knuckle under Cas's chin, Dean turned his face away so he could look closer at Cas's skin. "Yeah, definitely a hickey,” he laughed. 

"What is a hickey?" Cas pulled away and turned back to the mirror. "How long will it be there?"

"It's like a bruise," Dean shrugged. "Give it a few days, it'll fade." 

"A bruise?" Cas looked puzzled. "I don't remember you hurting me." 

A chuckle escaping him again, Dean said, "No, they don't usually hurt. It's not like I hit you, I did that with my mouth." 

Wide, blue eyes turned on Dean. "This is from that?" 

_"That"_ was referring to the open-mouthed kisses and gentle bites and light sucking that Dean learned could pull the best noises out of Cas when he trailed them over his throat. Dean secretly couldn't wait to hear the noises Cas would make when they do other things, things he hadn't brought up or made an attempt to try with him yet but he had been thinking about. 

"Yeah, Cas," he laughed. " _That's_ where the hickey's from." 

"Oh." Cas seemed to think about that. "I like when you do that." 

"I know you do," Dean nodded, sliding closer to Cas and resting his butt against the counter. "I can tell." 

"How can you tell?" He eyed Dean somewhat doubtfully, making Dean smile. 

"You're very obvious." With a push off the counter, he straightened up and was right there in front of Cas, their hips bumping. "For example," Dean used his own body to back Cas up against the closed door, hands finding his waist. "I know it makes you shiver when I do this..." Ducking his face down, he bent in swiftly and ran his lips up the side of Cas's neck; on cue, he felt Cas shudder against him and heard him swallow. "And you make the most amazing sounds when I do this..." He pulled back just enough to tip his head the other way and then pressed his mouth just above Cas's collarbone, swiping his tongue over his skin. At the same time, his hands found their way up Cas's shirt and gripped his sides, gently but firmly, fingers splayed. As he pulled away slowly, he sucked Cas's skin into his mouth and nipped gently. The reaction was perfect - a guttural, apparently unintentional groan rippled from Cas's throat and when Dean locked eyes with him again, he saw that his pupils were huge and his lips were parted slightly. Dean chuckled. "See?" 

Cas licked his lips and swallowed again. "You are extensively skilled in this." 

Shrugging, Dean smiled and stepped back from him. "I've had practice." He leaned back against the counter once more and watched Cas, who remained against the door. 

Cas was apparently pondering hard about something, and Dean let him think. Finally, Cas spoke. 

"Can I have more hickeys?" 

"You want more?" Dean smiled with his eyebrows drawn in.

"I like them." 

"Why?" 

"Because they're from you." That made Dean chuckle, but an odd warmth bloomed in his chest at the same time. Cas ran his fingers over the spot on his neck again. "And they seem very... human." 

"Hm," Dean thought about that. It made sense... angels couldn't get them because they would heal right away. He thought about how Cas seemed to be wanting to be more human, and he stepped close to him again. "In that case..." Fingers finding the end of Cas's shirt, he tugged it up and over his head, dropping it on the floor. "You can have as many hickeys as you want." 

Cas's blue eyes glittered and he smiled; Dean returned it with a grin and bent to lay his lips on Cas's collarbone, just once, before to he took his hand and led him back to his room. 

***

"Cas," Dean whispered through the dark from where he stood next to the bed. There was no response. He tried again.

"Cas. Wake up." Nothing. 

Dean leaned over, bracing himself with his knuckles on the mattress. His lips hovered close to Castiel's ear. 

"Caaaas." The man slept on, his back to Dean and his breathing deep and even. Dean rolled his eyes and gave up with the whispering. 

" _Cas,_ " he said, louder. Finally, Cas stirred. Instead of opening his eyes and joining the land of the living, however, he made a soft grumbly sound and burrowed deeper into Dean's bed until he was only a tuft of dark hair sticking out of the top of the covers. Despite Cas refusing to wake, Dean couldn't help but smile affectionately. Cas had wandered into Dean’s room at some point during the night and climbed into his bed, waking him with the freezing toes of his that he curled against Dean's calves. Even when they fell asleep in their own rooms they often would end up together before morning, either because Cas would sneak into Dean's room or Dean would sense one of Cas's nightmares and he would go to his. 

But Cas had slept through the night last night, at least once he was in Dean's bed. It was a rare occurrence, a night without cold sweats and dreams that left Cas staring up at the ceiling for hours, but one that was thankfully becoming more and more common. Even the bad nightmares didn't seem to completely traumatize him like they had in the past. And man, when Cas did sleep, he slept _hard_. Dean figured the bunker could take mortar fire and Cas would snooze through it. 

"Cas, come on. Get up, bud." Dean slid one knee onto the mattress, careful to avoid touching the sheets with his boots, and leaned farther over the sleeping man. "I've got a surpriiiise for youuu," Dean smiled around the sing-song way he spoke. "But you have to get up." 

When Cas still didn't move, Dean peeled the blanket down from his face a few inches and ducked his head to nuzzle his nose behind Cas's ear. "Castiel," he said breathily, purposefully breathing into Cas's neck and tickling the hair there. That certainly got a response. 

Cas grunted and snapped his shoulder up to his ear to protect his neck against the tickling, smacking Dean in the jaw in the process. Dean grunted as well and jerked his head away. 

"Ow, you goof.” He stood up straight and rubbed his jaw, chuckling softly. Finally, Cas moved beneath the blankets and rolled over, his eyes opening blearily as he gazed up at Dean. 

"Dean...?" 

"Oh, look! He lives!" Dean threw his hands up in mock celebration. "You sure can sleep like a dead person, Cas." 

Cas stared for another moment, and Dean determined he still wasn't fully cognitive. He noticed that Cas actually looked something like a sleepy puppy, or maybe a confused kitten waking after several months of hibernation. 

"What time is it?" Cas reached up and rubbed his eyes and then dropped his arms down to his sides on the outside of the blankets, pulling them down from his face. He peered up at Dean again, looking a little more alive. 

"Early. Get up, get dressed, we're going somewhere." 

"Going somewhere?" He sounded awfully confused. Okay, maybe he wasn't totally alive yet. 

"Yeah, but I'm not telling you where. It's a few hours drive, you can sleep in the car if you want to." Dean went to his dresser and opened some drawers. He pulled out clean boxers, jeans, and an old Henley and dropped them on the bed. "Here, you can wear this stuff." 

"What time did you say it was?" Cas followed Dean's movement around the room with his eyes. 

"I didn't." Dean grabbed socks from a different dresser and tossed those on the bed as well before heading to the corner to grab his second pair of boots. "It's five-thirty. We should be out of here by six if we wanna get there on time." 

" _Five-thirty?_ " Dean heard Cas's incredulous voice from behind him and he turned to face him, grinning. 

"Yeah, five-thirty. I know, you forgot this time of day existed, huh? Well today we're getting out of bed before noon for once and we're gonna go have some fun." He dropped the boots on the floor next to the bed. 

Cas was sitting up now, gazing at the proffered clothes with the blankets pooled around his waist. He blinked a few times. Dean laughed and Cas looked up at him. 

"You with me, Cas? Are you awake or are you still sleeping, just with your eyes open?" He smiled wryly at the sleepy ex-angel before him. 

"No, I'm awake." Cas threw the blankets off of his sweatpant-clad legs and slid from the bed and onto his feet. "I'm up now, I'm - " his words were cut off by a huge yawn and he stretched his arms over his head. The t-shirt he always wore to bed - the grey Eye of the Tiger one that was Dean's favorite, but he said nothing about whenever Cas pulled it on - rode up dangerously, revealing the skin of his stomach and the shadow of hair that trailed down from his belly button. Dean swallowed and looked away. 

"I'm gonna go grab some breakfast from the kitchen while you get changed. We still have some of the life-changing breakfast burritos in the fridge from a few days ago, you want one of those?" 

Cas nodded enthusiastically, making Dean crack a smile. "Alright, I'll be right back." 

In the kitchen, Dean pulled the burritos from the refrigerator, unwrapped them from their foil, and stuck them on a plate for the microwave. He leaned a hip against the counter and watched them revolve around, finding the soft hum of his food being nuked oddly relaxing. Even reheated, these burritos would be good. 

Dean was really glad Cas had liked them. His appetite was growing more and more every day, and with it he was putting the weight back on that he'd lost in those first few weeks. It was slow, but Dean noticed a difference. He was getting physically stronger, his stamina was returning to normal, and his ribs weren't so alarmingly apparent like they were before. Dean could hold him and see him without his shirt on without feeling a twist in his gut at his skinniness. 

Turned out, the key to getting Cas to eat more on his good days - junk food. The guy had the taste buds of a seven-year-old, Dean was sure of it. Sam had stocked up on s'more flavored Poptarts at Cas's request, and he ate one almost every day, always toasted. The three of them had a campfire a few nights earlier outside the bunker, and Dean made Cas a real s'more, with a perfectly roasted marshmallow and graham crackers with extra cinnamon. Cas liked the Poptarts better. 

He preferred velveeta mac and cheese over the real stuff, would eat microwaved chicken nuggets for every meal if Dean let him, and he always chose the most colorful ice cream flavor, like cotton candy or birthday cake, the ones that turned your mouth and teeth blue. 

The microwave beeped. Dean opened it up and was pulling the hot plate out as he heard Cas shuffle into the doorway. He glanced over his shoulder at him, practically dropping the scalding plate on the counter before it burned his fingertips off, and then had to do a double take.

Cas stood leaning on the doorframe, one hand holding onto a toothbrush that was hanging out of his mouth and his other shoved deep into his pocket. His eyebrows were pulled together in apprehension, but that wasn't what made Dean turn for a second look. With Dean’s boots on his feet and the Henley’s top two buttons undone, brushing his teeth in the doorway as if he’d watched Dean make them breakfast for years, he looked so very… _human._ He didn’t look at all un-Castiel-like, but he looked like such a different version of Cas that Dean had to stare for a moment. Not to mention, the navy color of the Henley was making his eyes look incredibly blue, like the first clear day after weeks of rain, and his hair was mussed and sticking up like it had just been tugged on, and - no, Dean refused to let himself go there. It wasn’t until Dean noticed all of this that he took note of the worried look Cas held on his face. 

Oblivious to Dean’s staring, Cas pushed off the doorframe and brushed past him to the sink, where he spit out his toothpaste and began rinsing the toothbrush. 

“Where are we going, Dean?” He tapped the water off the brush on the side of the sink and set it on the counter.

“I told you, it’s a surprise,” Dean said, tearing his eyes away from Cas in that goddamn navy blue Henley - maybe it was a bad idea to lend it to him, he was finding it incredibly distracting - and turned back to the burritos. He grabbed some paper towels to wrap them in. 

He saw Cas turn toward him and lean back on the counter in his peripheral vision. “I wish you would tell me where we were going.” The obvious uneasiness in Cas’s voice made Dean look over at him. 

“You’ll love it. I know you will.” 

“But what if I - “

Dean knew what he was going to say. “Panic?” He watched Cas swallow and nod, looking distraught. “You might.” 

Cas looked a little shocked. “I - what?”

“You might, Cas. You might very well have a panic attack.” Dean nodded, turning from the burritos to give Cas his full attention. “And you know what? I’ll be there, the whole time. We can get you back in the car, and we can come right on home. It won’t be the end of the world, even if it may feel like it. You can’t let worrying about it keep you from doing things. Besides, it won’t be the first time we’ve gone out.” He reached out and hooked a finger through one of Cas’s front belt loops, using it to pull him away from the counter and towards himself. 

Cas sighed, following Dean’s tugging until they were practically chest to chest, and bringing his hands up to rest on Dean’s sides. “Getting ice cream doesn’t count. And that even took two attempts, the first try was disastrous.”

“It wasn’t disastrous."

“I annoyed you.”

“You didn’t annoy me,” Dean said truthfully, his eyebrows drawing together. When Cas didn’t look convinced, he added, “You didn’t. I was worried, but in no way annoyed.” 

It had been the first time they went somewhere public since the incident at the Gas-N-Sip. Dean was telling the truth, it wasn’t disastrous - but it was far from a successful outing. All three of them had piled into the Impala and driven to get ice cream, but they never got as far as eating it. So concerned with the possibility of having another panic attack, Cas had nearly worked himself into one. He’d shut down, refusing to eat anything. Instead, he’d stood stock-still in the line, not responding to Dean or Sam or the girl working behind the counter, and stared straight ahead. They’d ushered him back to the car when he started trembling and throwing anxious looks around the room, and taken him home. In retrospect, Dean thought maybe he’d let some of his frustration show, and he mentally kicked himself for it. He didn’t want Cas to think he’d been annoyed with him. 

“And anyway, we went back a few days later and you were okay, right? That second time went really well.” It was true. After a nervous first couple of minutes, Cas had definitely relaxed, and had even smiled bashfully back at Sam and Dean when they laughed at his blue teeth.

“Yeah, that went okay…” Cas didn’t seem completely assured, but Dean wasn’t worried. He had a good feeling about this trip. Dean grinned and pecked Cas on the mouth before pulling away and collecting the burritos.

“Good. Let’s head out. Sam’s asleep, I told him we’d be gone for the day.” He handed Cas his burrito. “You can eat this in the car.” 

Cas took it, and followed Dean trustingly out of the bunker, into the warm, early spring morning. 

…

As expected, the drive took almost four hours. The place was on the far east side of Kansas, but it was a straight shot to get there, mostly on the highway. Castiel slept on and off in the passenger seat, but was wide awake for the last half hour, practically vibrating with what Dean hoped was more excitement than anxiety. 

“Are we almost there? Wherever there is, I mean.” Cas drummed his fingers on the windowsill. 

“Yep.” Dean glanced at the address written on the scrap paper that he held in his hand, and turned onto a street. “Dawson Street. It’s just down this road.” 

Cas’s leg was now jumping spastically, and Dean glanced at him. “Cas. You’re alright.” Cas merely nodded noncommittally and kept bouncing his leg. 

They reached the end of the road and Dean spotted the sign - Hillside Honey Apiary. He smiled. “This is it.” 

“This is what? We’re here? Where are we?” Cas craned his neck to see out the windshield, and Dean lifted his arm to point past him towards the sign. He watched Cas’s face as he read the sign, but couldn’t read his expression. Looking back at the road, he steered the Impala down the long gravel driveway. 

“Our reservation is at ten.” Dean glanced at his watch, which read quarter of. “We made good time.” Cas was quiet and still next to him as he swung the car into a parking spot. There was a large, one-story building behind them, and it seemed like the driveway kept going past the parking lot into the depth of the property. Through the trees in that direction, past a fence, a few other low buildings could be seen. He put the car in park and looked over at Cas. “Cas?” 

Castiel turned away from his window to look back at Dean. “An apiary?” The look on his face was again hard to decipher.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “An apiary.”

“A bee farm. You took me to a bee farm.” Cas spoke slowly and evenly, his expression strange. Suddenly doubting himself, Dean bit the inside of his lip. Was this a bad idea? Maybe it was too much. Maybe Cas really wasn’t ready for this.

“Yeah, I did. I figured - well, I remembered - you like bees, right?” He fiddled with the car keys in his hands, nervous. 

Cas nodded slowly. 

"Well, I talked to the lady, and she said that they give tours of the place, and I paid for one online," Dean rushed on, "And then at the end we get to put the suits on, you know, the big white bee suits or whatever they're called, and they'll open up the hive and we can watch, and she even said we can take some of the honey home for like seven dollars or something like that - which I thought would be pretty cool, right? I mean, I don’t know, maybe - maybe not, and if not, I mean, that’s totally fine, whatever you wanna do we can - ” Dean was cut off when Cas suddenly slid across the bench seat and interrupted his rambling with a kiss right on the mouth. His eyes widened in surprise, and he didn’t get much of a chance to reciprocate before Cas pulled back and gazed up at him. His eyes were equally as wide as Dean’s and shining, over-bright in the sunlight streaming into the Impala. 

“Cas, are you - “

“You remembered.” He stared earnestly, gaze darting from one of Dean’s eyes to the other. 

“What?” Dean watched in slight shock as Cas’s eyes brimmed with tears, afraid that he’d upset him. 

“You remembered that I loved bees.” Dean nodded. “And you took me to a bee farm.”

“Yes, Cas, I did - ” Cas’s mouth spread into a huge smile and it dawned on Dean that it was gratitude that was causing his eyes to get so misty, and he suddenly felt huge relief. “You’re happy, Cas, right? This is okay?”

“Dean, this is great!” Cas was grinning now, and Dean was returning the giant smile, all worries gone. “I can’t believe you remembered!”

“Well,” Dean pulled his eyebrows together slightly. “It was a little hard for me not to. You do remember that one time…” Cas cocked his head to the side, puzzled, and Dean cleared his throat. “You know, er, you, on my car… and the bees… and the, you know, lack of any and all other attire thing.”

Realization showed on Cas’s face and then he was blushing, looking down at his lap. “Right. Yes. That did happen. I… apologize for that, if I haven’t before.”

Shaking his head, Dean chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. Looking back, it was actually pretty - ” They both jumped a little when there was a knock on Dean’s window and they looked over to see a woman standing on the other side. She appeared to be in her early sixties, but the giant grin on her face and the way she was waving enthusiastically, practically bouncing on her feet, made her look much younger. “This must be the owner,” Dean muttered. He looked back at Cas and made a “come on” motion with his head before climbing out of the car. 

“Hey there!” the woman exclaimed as they got out of their respective sides of the Impala. “Which one of you young men is Dean, then?” 

“That’d be me,” Dean couldn’t help but smile - a little awkwardly - back at this excitable woman as she vigorously shook his hand. She turned abruptly away from him, however, as Cas came around the car. 

“Well, then, you must be Castiel, right, hun?” She practically beamed at him. Cas looked a little taken aback and shot a glance at Dean as she shook his hand with equal enthusiasm as she did Dean’s, if not a little more. “I’m Carol. Your friend here and I spoke over the phone,” she gestured towards Dean. “He sure was excited to get you out here, let me tell you.” She laughed, light and easy, and Dean saw Cas’s mouth turn up in a smile as he watched this little bubbly woman in wonderment. She put a hand on Cas’s back and began leading him towards the building, Dean walking along with them. “I swear, this guy,” she elbowed Dean genially, “was more excited about you than he was about my bees. He said you love bees, is that right?” 

Dean couldn’t help but blush a little and he looked away when he caught Cas gazing at him. He heard Cas clear his throat as he watched his feet for a few steps before he looked up again. 

“Yes, I do. I think they’re fascinating.” 

The woman laughed again. She seemed to do that a lot. “Well, I have to agree with you there. Boy, do I have an exciting day planned for you two! Usually we only do tours if we’ve got at least six people, but your Dean here,” she elbowed Dean again and winked at him, her eyes twinkling. Dean thought about the "your Dean" part. “Well, he was just so gosh darn set on giving you a fun day that I had to give you a private tour. Schools are still in session around here anyway, so it’s been too quiet here on the farm.”

“I - thank you. That’s very kind of you.” Cas peered genuinely down at the little woman, who only laughed again and waved a hand dismissively. Dean locked eyes with Cas and saw that the gratitude there was directed at him as well. They stepped through the door that Carol held open for them and into the low building. The lobby appeared to be part gift shop, with shelves lining the walls. On them were various honey and beeswax products, from raw honey and candy to soaps and candles. 

“You two are welcome to come back through here at the end and purchase whatever it is you’d like. We’re just cutting through for now.” Cas and Dean followed her through the gift shop and out the door on the other side. They walked down a hallway, passing various rooms. Some looked like classrooms, probably designed for hosting field trips. In one large room that they passed at the end of the hall, Dean spotted several large metal machines and a grid of buckets lined against the wall. “First I thought I could walk you two around the property because it’s such a nice day. We have about eighty hives that my husband made himself, which we’ll actually go and open up later. But we’re also the proud hosts of some pretty spectacular natural hives, which I’ll point out to you as we go. I would’ve walked you around the outside of the building but I didn’t want to risk the dogs getting out of the gate.” They reached the end of the hall to another door that led back outside. Carol swung it open and stepped out, and they followed her into the bright late-morning sun. 

Two giant shepherds and a tiny Jack Russell bounded over to them and demanded petting, which they stopped momentarily to comply to. Cas even offered them a "Hello." They liked Cas much more than they liked Dean, and chose to follow close on his heels as the three of them walked. 

Carol was right. The natural beehives that they had were pretty spectacular. Most of them were high up in the trees, but they were so big that they were clearly visible from the ground. In fact, the entire property was amazing. There was a huge wildflower garden that Cas had to stop and look at, and he made Carol laugh and slap him lightly on the shoulder with his profuse compliments of it. They spent a long time standing there while Cas watched the goings-on of the garden. 

Mostly, they talked about bees. Castiel stared at Carol as she talked, listening raptly to what she had to say and sometimes answering her questions or adding his own bits of information. Apparently impressed, Carol asked Cas how he knew all he did, to which he replied, "Observation." 

Dean for the most part just watched Cas in amusement. This was the most excited he'd seen him since, well, he wasn't even quite sure. He couldn't help smiling every time Cas pointed at something for him to look at, like various bees out in the garden, or even a lone flower that Cas for some reason found fascinating. At one point Cas was rambling on about a bird's nest they saw that was full of babies, and as he peered through the bush at them, Dean found himself watching Cas instead, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He felt himself smirk when his eyes fell on a mostly-faded hickey that was peeking out above the neck of Cas's Henley, and was a little surprised with himself when he realized he was feeling a bit of prideful possessiveness as he gazed at it. When he looked up he locked eyes with Carol, and he was surprised again to see she was staring at him. She gave him a look, her eyes shining brightly as if she knew something Dean didn't. He felt his cheeks heat and he looked away. 

It took about an hour to walk the perimeter of the property. Not because it was far, but because Carol seemed more than happy to stop whenever something caught Cas's attention and she allowed him whatever time he wanted to look at it. When they had talked on the phone, Dean hadn't said much about Cas's situation, or anything at all really, but for some reason he had a feeling that she knew... Something. He had no idea how, but she seemed to know that this was exactly what Cas needed. 

As they meandered back towards the building, Dean and Cas's shoulders brushing and the dogs bounding ahead of them, Dean finally allowed himself a deep breath. This was good. Cas seemed, for the first time in a long time, _happy_. Genuinely so. Just then he reached out and took Dean's hand, lacing together their fingers. Unable to help it, Dean shot a quick, nervous glance at Carol, who he was sure could see, but found that she was grinning to herself. The last of his worries ebbing away, Dean looked at Cas and smiled. 

Back in the building, she took them to a room full of beekeeping equipment. She showed them how to put the bee suits on, and she pulled one on herself as well. Dean laughed at Cas in his, even though he probably looked equally as ridiculous, and he got a light, one-handed shove and squinty look in return. 

They made their way back outside and walked in the opposite direction they had before, through the trees to get to the wooden, man-made hives that spattered a clearing. 

"Alright, Castiel, so what I'm gonna do here is take one of these frames out so we can take a good look at the honeycombs and the bees inside." Carol approached the closest hive and tipped open the lid. As several bees swarmed out from the top, she pointed a metal, watering can-looking object down into it and sprayed what looked like smoke over the bees. 

"What's that for?" Dean asked, genuinely curious. 

"Well, when the bees get agitated for some reason, like say, when I open up their hive while they're in the middle of working - " she let out a light laugh, " - what they do is they let out pheromones to tell the other bees about the 'danger'. When the others smell the pheromones, they do the same thing, and it's not long until they're all freaked out and swarming. The smoke just hides the smell of the pheromones so they stay relatively calmer." She smiled at them, and directed her twinkly gaze at Cas momentarily, who looked a little worried. "Don't worry, it's doesn't hurt the little guys at all." 

She reached in the hive and grabbed ahold of the edge of one of the wooden frames. After a gentle tug, she got it loose and pulled it out. It looked like a large, wooden-framed rectangle, and it was absolutely covered in bees. Dean heard Cas gasp next to him and felt him lean a little towards Carol in interest. She looked up at him and grinned. 

"Pretty cool, right? Here, Castiel, you wanna hold this for me?" He nodded enthusiastically and she passed it over. "Just hold the edges like this, on the wood." 

He did as he was told, delicately holding the edges of the frame as bees buzzed around him. 

"You alright there, Dean?" 

Dean looked over at Carol from where he was staring at the frame in Cas's hands. 

"You're looking a little pale." Carol grinned at him. 

Swallowing, Dean tried to smile. "No, I'm - I'm good. That's just... a lot of bees." 

Carol laughed at him and Cas shot him a grin. He looked thrilled, actually. The practically glowing look on Cas's face was what made Dean take a step closer and force himself to look more interested than intimidated when Carol started pointing to various spots on the frame. 

"So most of these are female worker bees, you see? What they're doing is they're packing these little cells with nectar that they've brought back from flowers, adding enzymes to turn it into honey, and then capping them off with wax. And then in these other little cells we've got larvae, they'll cap those off too and they'll grow into adults while they're in there." 

"So all those worker bees are laying eggs in the cells?" Dean asked, shamelessly hiding a little behind Cas and gazing over his shoulder. 

"No," it was Cas who answered his question. Dean could hear the smile in his voice. "Only the queen lays the eggs." 

"That's right," Carol beamed at him. "What do you say we pull out another frame and see if we can find her?" 

"Really?" Cas asked, bouncing a little in excitement and Dean smiled despite himself. "Okay! Dean, hold this." Cas turned and pushed the frame into his hands. 

"What? No - _babe_ \- " With no other choice, Dean took the frame, holding it as far away from himself as he could. Cas let out a laugh, obviously directed at him, but when they locked eyes briefly there was something else there, a little peculiar tip of Cas's head under his hood. Maybe it was about the "babe" that Dean unintentionally let slip. Cas turned away and took a new frame from Carol while Dean held his, eyeing it warily. 

A few frames later they found the queen. Dean thought Cas might actually fall over in excitement when he spotted her. After a while, once Carol told them everything she knew about the various bees and their jobs and activities, and answered all of Cas's extensive questions, they loaded the frames back into the hive. Dean was relieved to no longer be holding his, but Cas looked a little sad to give his up, especially because the queen was on it. After it was closed up, Cas gave the lid of the hive a fond pat and they made their way back to the building. 

After they stripped out of their suits, they were joined by Carol's husband and were led to the room with the big machines, where the two of them showed Cas and Dean the process of spinning the honey off of several frames at once. Cas was fascinated by this efficient process, and mentioned to Carol how much easier (and less painful) it was than trying to do it from a live hive by hand - she laughed. 

When the frames were empty and the honey was slowly dripping through a strainer, Carol pointed them in the direction of the bathroom. She had lemonade and sandwiches waiting for them outside when they got back, and the four of them sat on rocking chairs in the sun and snacked while they waited. Dean watched Cas eat his entire sandwich, and as if she knew something that Dean didn't tell her, Carol immediately gave him another with a soft smile. 

Dean felt content. A look over at Cas, who was rocking gently with sunlight glinting through his hair as he peered out over the property, confirmed that he felt the same. It felt so very domestic, watching Cas sip lemonade with a crowd of dogs lying at his feet. Dean smiled fondly at him when he caught his eye and couldn't help but reach out and affectionately tap a knuckle under his chin, not even caring that Carol and her husband were both there. Something about Carol made him feel like it was okay. They were okay, and Cas was okay. 

Everything just felt okay. 

...

Cas and Dean both got huge hugs from Carol before they left, and she told them they could come back any time, waving off their profuse "thank you"s. She told Cas it was a shame they lived so far, because she could use another beekeeper to help her around the farm. He beamed at her. 

When she hugged Dean, she held on a beat longer and spoke quietly so only he could hear. "You're taking good care of him," she said before pulling away, locking eyes with him with a smile and patting him on the cheek. She hugged Cas a second time before they climbed into the Impala and waved until they drove out of sight down the driveway. 

The entire way home, Dean drove with one hand. He held Cas's in the other, who had scooted to the middle seat and sat with his thigh pressed to Dean's. 

About an hour through the drive, Cas leaned over to place a kiss on the side of Dean's neck. 

"Thank you, Dean," he murmured into his skin. Dean turned his head and kissed Cas's forehead in way of a response. 

On the passenger seat next to Cas were two jars of honey that they had poured themselves, buckled in safely so they wouldn't topple over. 

***

It was later that night and Dean was sitting at the table in the war room, pouring over a few giant encyclopedias. Cas had gone to bed a little while ago and Sam left for a case while they were driving home from the bee farm; hence the research Dean figured he'd help with. Sam was meeting up with another hunter who had found the case initially, and Dean trusted for the most part that things would go okay without him. Just like the times before, though, he made Sam promise to call him as soon as he needed him. 

Dean sighed and flipped through a few more useless pages. He wasn't getting very far with the research and he pushed the encyclopedia away to pull a different one towards himself when Cas appeared in the doorway. 

"Hello, Dean," Cas greeted, coming over to the table. He had traded out Dean's jeans for his favorite pair of Dean's sweatpants but was still wearing his blue Henley. In his hand was one of the jars of honey. 

"Hey, Cas." Dean smiled at him and then returned his gaze down to his research. "I thought you went to bed." 

"I couldn't sleep." He set the honey on the table and then hoisted himself onto it so he was sitting next to Dean's books and picked the jar up again. 

Dean couldn't help but look up at him in concern but Cas shook his head before he could say anything. "No nightmares," he said, reading Dean's expression. "Just not tired." He popped the jar open. 

"Well, you can definitely hang out with me instead. I'm getting nowhere with this research." He flipped through some more pages and rubbed his eyes. 

"Don't do it," Cas said simply as he shrugged, dipping a finger into the honey and then sticking it in his mouth. Dean chuckled. 

"Yeah, I wish." With a glance at Cas's lips curled around his finger, Dean cleared his throat and forced his eyes back down to the words and diagrams. He scanned over the same sentence three times while Cas sat, watching him. 

Dean finally got through the paragraph that he’d been staring at for almost a full minute when Cas spoke up again. “I had a lot of fun today,” he said, making Dean look up with a smile. 

“I’m glad you did,” Dean said, his heart swelling with warmth. “I had fun, too. Carol was great, wasn’t she?” 

Cas nodded earnestly. “She was very kind. And she smiled a lot.”

“Yeah, she did.” Dean surveyed Cas’s face and he thought about all the smiling he had done that day, too. More than he’d seen him do in quite a while. He smiled himself and looked back down at the encyclopedia. 

Before Dean could stop him, Cas reached out with his free hand and pushed the large books out from under Dean’s hands, causing one to fall on the floor with a loud _thud._

“Wha - Cas - “ Dean laughed incredulously as Castiel scooted over to sit where the books had been previously, right in front of Dean. “What are you doing, you weirdo?”

Cas only shrugged and dipped his finger again in the honey and raised it to his mouth to lick it off. 

“Is this your way of telling me to pay attention to you?” Dean grinned through his teasing and rested his hands on the outside of Cas’s thighs. He got a wry smile from Cas in return. “How’s the honey?”

“It’s good,” Cas said as he scooped some more with his finger. “Do you want to try some,” he locked eyes with Dean. “ _babe?_ ” 

Dean froze and felt his face heat a little under Cas’s intense gaze. He knew Cas had caught that earlier. He forced a laugh, trying to hide his slight embarrassment. “Are you making fun of me for calling you babe?” 

“No,” Cas said, looking speculative. “I like it. It is a term of endearment, correct? Because at first I thought you were calling me a child, and I thought that was rather rude - “

Dean laughed. “No, I wasn’t calling you a baby.”

“So you meant it as a pet name,” Cas said, eyeing Dean innocently.

“Yeah,” said Dean, nodding. “Exactly.”

Cas looked at him for another moment and then smiled, nodding to himself. “I like it. Here, now you can try this.” He tipped the open jar towards Dean, obviously expecting him to dip a finger in it. Instead, Dean reached out and grabbed Cas’s other hand as he lifted it towards his mouth, pulling it towards himself instead and wrapping his lips around Cas’s honey-coated finger. 

“Mmm,” he said as he sucked the honey off without taking his eyes off of Cas’s face. Cas’s mouth had dropped open slightly and he stared at Dean, who pulled away, allowing Cas’s hand to fall back in his lap. “That is good,” Dean said with a smirk. He stared back at Cas, waiting. 

_Come on, Cas,_ he thought. _Take the bait. That was a pretty forward move there, let’s see if you can recognize it._

Finally, Castiel cleared his throat. “Was that a flirtation?” 

Dean couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, Cas, that was a flirtation.” 

“Good,” Cas set the honey down. “That’s what I thought.”

Dean was still trying to stifle his laughs when Cas leaned down and kissed him, but he kissed him back enthusiastically just the same. He was even still chortling slightly as he stood, causing his chair to topple backwards onto the floor behind him, and stepped forward between Cas's legs. 

Their hands were everywhere, running over each other's sides and through each other's hair, as if they hadn't been touched or touched each other in years. Dean was the first to break the kiss and he trailed his mouth across Cas's jaw instead, nipped gently before he made it to his ear, and then proceeded down to his neck. By that point they were both gasping a little, Cas's legs hooked around the back of Dean's knees and hands gripping Dean's flannel on either side of him, Dean's making their way up Cas's shirt. 

"I've been wanting to take this stupid shirt off you all friggin' day," Dean growled into Cas's neck and he stood up straight and pulled that goddamn blue Henley over Cas's head, throwing it somewhere behind him with an air of satisfaction. He caught Cas's confused expression for a split second and then pressed his lips to his neck again. 

"You don't like that shirt?" Cas asked innocently, his breath hitching a little as Dean’s teeth grazed his skin. "Why? I like it, it’s very - "

"Cas," Dean chuckled. "Shut up." He covered Cas’s mouth again with his own, properly silencing him. Dean felt Cas tugging his flannel off his shoulders and he shook it off onto the floor and allowed Cas to pull his t-shirt over his head as well, letting it follow the flannel's descent. 

As soon as their bare skin made contact they were kissing again, even more fervently than before. Before either of them knew it, Cas was flat on his back on the table and Dean was bent over him, his lips travelling down from his mouth, over his chin, and to his heaving chest. Open-mouthed kisses were left across old, almost-faded hickeys that were given several days ago. The marks were left by Dean purposefully over Cas’s paling, self-inflicted scars, coloring and decorating his pain and hatred with tenderness and warmth and concern. Dean felt Cas’s fingers in his hair and his own breath being trapped between his mouth and Cas’s skin. 

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” Dean whispered, hands on Cas, sliding his palms up his sides. 

“Whose?” Castiel croaked. 

“Mine.” 

Castiel pushed Dean off of him by the shoulders and sat up, dropping from the table and to his feet on the floor. He took Dean’s hand and pulled him out the door and down the hall, Dean kicking off his boots as they went. 

As they stumbled into Dean's bedroom, Dean flung an arm out for the light switch but missed, the two of them heading for the bed in the dark. Dean barely had time to be grateful that Sam wasn't home what with all the racket they were making before they were a mess of tangled limbs on the bed. He allowed Cas to flip him over, reversing their positions so Dean was pinned to the mattress by Cas straddling his hips. 

A low moan of surprised pleasure erupted from Dean's throat in response. The more comfortable Cas became with this kind of thing, the more he seemed to take control of it, something Dean definitely wasn't complaining about. He smiled to himself when Cas broke off the kiss and his mouth travelled down Dean's neck and to his chest, the same way Dean always did to him. He was a quick study. 

"Cas," Dean breathed, and blue eyes met his almost immediately.

"Yes, Dean?" 

Dean chewed his lip for a second before speaking, breathing hard. "What do you say we try something a little different?" 

Cas cocked his head to the side and crinkled his forehead. "Different how?"

Stretching up and kissing him, Dean flipped Cas over onto his back and slid on top of him once more, and then pulled back to get a look at his face. His hair was sticking up and ruffled from Dean's fingers and his pupils were blown wide, and Dean was again struck by how freaking _human_ he looked. Not only that, he looked absolutely beautiful. Stunning. Dean swallowed and shifted his hips on top of Cas, making the former angel groan; Dean could feel how aroused he was through his sweatpants. 

"You trust me?" Dean whispered. 

"Of course, Dean." Cas's reply was immediate and sure, making Dean smile. He pecked Cas on the mouth and then began moving southward, much slower this time. He planted kisses over Cas's throat, sucking lightly on his skin, pulling it gently between his teeth; he deliberately dragged his lips across his collarbone, then down to his sternum. Every time he moved to a new, previously untouched place across Cas's chest he felt or heard a reaction - a shiver, a hitch in his breath, a dry swallow. 

Dean's lips navigated over Castiel's ribs, his tongue dipping lightly into the spaces between them as he traveled farther downward, the spaces now shallow. There were no longer worrisome gaps, no bones protruding where they shouldn’t, and Cas's body felt strong and healthy beneath him - more so than it'd felt in quite some time. 

"De-ean..." Cas's soft voice hitched as Dean's mouth skimmed over his stomach. 

"I've got you, Cas," Dean murmured back and he was reminded of that first night when he had found Cas with the razor in the bathroom and he had mapped out his body with kisses after. The small changes and improvements Cas had made since then, physically, emotionally, mentally, had added up and were now so apparent to Dean that it made his eyes prickle. 

"I'm so proud of you," Dean whispered against Cas's hipbone, which was far less sharp than it was those weeks ago. Cas made a soft, indistinguishable sound at the praise, his hands on Dean’s neck and in his hair and behind his ears, touching wherever they could reach. 

Cas suddenly froze when Dean hooked his fingers in the waistband of his sweatpants. 

With a glance up at Cas, who he found staring down at him, Dean said quietly, “It’s okay. Just relax.” 

Cas nodded trustingly, and Dean gently tugged both his sweatpants and boxers down from his hips. Untangling them from Cas’s ankles, he tossed them to the floor. Dean looked back at Cas and couldn’t help but stare for a long moment. 

“Should I - what - what do I do?” Cas’s voice made Dean’s eyes snap back up to his face. He saw that his eyes were wide and he was looking a little overwhelmed, but not at all in a bad way. Dean chuckled lightly. 

“You do nothing. I’m gonna take care of you,” Dean leaned down and kissed the crook of Cas’s thigh, beneath his hip, and at the same time reached to gently wrap a hand around him. Cas immediately stiffened and pulled in a sharp breath, grabbing onto Dean’s shoulder. “Tell me if I do something you don’t like and I’ll stop, okay?” 

Cas swallowed and nodded against the pillows, his eyes bright even through the low light. Dean kept his eyes locked on Cas’s face as he gave a stroke with his hand, watching close at his reaction. It was immediate; Cas groaned, his eyes going impossibly wider, and he tipped his head back until he was looking at the ceiling, every muscle tense. A smirk playing at his lips, Dean couldn’t wait for what Cas would do about what was to come; it’d been quite awhile since Dean had done this for someone, but he was pretty confident in his ability to unravel Cas at the seams. With one last long look at Cas’s face, his heaving chest, and the way he gripped fist-fulls of the bedsheets on either side of him, Dean bent and took Cas into his mouth. 

The strangled moan that escaped from Cas’s throat was unbelievable. It affected Dean physically, despite him being on the giving end of the affair and not the receiving end. He would have grinned if he wasn’t otherwise preoccupied. 

Dean’s attention was hopelessly divided between the task at hand and Cas’s truly incredible responses. He learned that certain ways he bowed his head or moved his tongue would get different reactions, all of which were equally amazing. He made Cas moan, and tremble, and even whimper, much to his satisfaction; if he changed his pace in a particular manner he would get Cas’s fingers digging into his shoulders; if he held him down by his hips, there’d be hands grabbing his hair. Dean revelled in all of it, wishing he could see Cas’s face.

Truth be told, it didn’t last too long. Dean would have liked to credit that fact to his own skill, but he knew that it was partly due to Cas’s inexperience in the matter. Either way, after some amount of time, however indiscernible, Cas’s breath became increasingly more erratic and he suddenly squirmed, stammering incoherently. 

Cas let out one, final cry of “ _Dean,_ ” the only intelligible word to come out of his mouth the entire time, one hand clutching Dean’s shoulder desperately and the other gripping the sheets. Dean actually shivered and almost let out a moan of his own at the way it sounded for Cas to choke out his name in his moment of bliss. With one last shudder, Cas’s body relaxed and he sunk into the mattress, panting. 

After carefully finishing Cas off, Dean pulled away and sat back on his heels while he wiped the back of his hand once over his mouth. Taking a few moments to catch his own breath, he allowed himself the time to admire Cas, sprawled across his memory foam mattress. His eyes took in the slight gleam of sweat across Cas’s forehead, his loose limbs, the rise and fall of his chest that was gradually becoming less rapid. They locked eyes, and Dean had to grin. Cas looked absolutely mind-boggled, staring with his mouth hanging open a little. 

Dean leaned off the bed and grabbed Cas’s pants from the floor, tossing them up next to him before starting to crawl up his body. Hands and knees on the mattress on either side of Cas, Dean pressed kisses over his torso as he ascended, opposite the way he had done not ten minutes earlier, but just like he'd done that first night. 

“You’re amazing,” Dean murmured into his skin, making it back up to his ribcage. More words came, being spoken softly against the man beneath him. “Beautiful, Cas…” More kisses. “Proud of you…” Back to his chest, lips travelling across. “I’ve got you, babe...” Their faces level, they eyed each other for a long moment and then Cas snaked his hand around the back of Dean’s neck. He pulled him down and kissed him languidly, with content, post-climax laziness. Dean loved it. 

They finally broke apart, Dean still hovering over him. “How was that?” He asked quietly. 

Cas seemed to search for something to say for a moment before ultimately shaking his head. “There aren’t words,” he croaked, and Dean chuckled, finally rolling off him and onto his side next to him. Cas reached out for his sweatpants and slowly pulled them on. Once they were on, Dean grabbed the blankets and tugged them over the both of them before sliding an arm around Cas. 

“That was incredible,” Cas said, turning his head to see Dean, who grinned. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” 

They were quiet for a while, and Cas looked back up at the ceiling. Dean watched his profile, feeling as though Cas had something else to say, for which he waited patiently. Finally, after several minutes of them lying there with Cas tracing patterns on Dean's arm with his fingertips, Cas spoke. 

“I always thought of humanity as being very…ordinary. But that…that was _far_ from ordinary.” 

Dean laughed. "Well, I'm flattered. Glad I've still got some tricks up my sleeve." 

"I'm serious, Dean," Cas turned his head to catch Dean's eye, and Dean was surprised at just how serious he really looked. "It's not just... _that,_ although I really hope we can do more of that, it's... everything. Humanity. It's so far from ordinary. I had a lot of trouble in the beginning, and I wasn't sure if I... I didn't know if I would be able to do it. I didn’t _want to._ But you…” Cas took a deep breath, eyes roaming Dean’s face. “You’ve more than kept your promise to me, Dean, and I need to thank you for that. Everything you've done and been through for me, everything you've put up with, and the Poptarts, and the bee farm today - ”

“Cas - ” Dean tried, cheeks heating a little. He was never so good at this part. 

“No, Dean,” Cas interrupted. “You really have shown me how extraordinary being human can be, you - ” He chewed his lip. “You’re always trying to find me a reason to get out of bed in the morning - which I’ve found is a very significant element of being human, finding that reason - but, Dean... Most days, my reason is you.”

As Cas stared soberly into Dean’s eyes, Dean didn’t know what to say. He was all of a sudden overcome with emotion, triggered by Cas’s words and his raw, unadulterated expression. His entire body ached with it, and the backs of his eyes prickled for the second time that night. Instead of saying anything, because he was at an absolute loss for words, he leaned in and kissed Cas. He tried to pour everything he couldn't say into the kiss, their tongues dragging together and hands coming up to clutch each other's sides. Cas rolled to face him, and he kissed Dean back with an equal amount of passion. 

When they finally pulled apart, a lump was in Dean's throat and he couldn't explain why, and his chest was so tight it hurt. He couldn't look away from that overpowering blue. 

"You saved me, Dean," Cas whispered. 

"Well," Dean choked out, trying his best to laugh lightly. "I owed you one." 

The realization dawned on Dean all at once and he suddenly assigned a word for the overwhelming emotion that was threatening to crack him in two. Though they didn't spill over, tears filled Cas's eyes and Dean was sure that he was experiencing the same internal epiphany. And then came the overpowering urge to say it, voice his discovery, cry it out before it burst from his chest. He would scream it to the heavens, but in all honesty Dean no longer gave a damn about them; neither the heavens nor the opinions of meant anything to him anymore, because his own piece of them was lying right there in his arms. 

“Castiel,” Dean spoke, the strength of his voice surprising him. “I love you.”

A single tear broke free and fell from Cas’s eye, not in anguish or suffering, but the opposite. For the first time since falling, in all the weeks Cas had been staying in the bunker, he finally looked… _free_. Free from heaven, free from the crushing weight of phantom wings on his back, free to finally just _be human._ A smile spread across his face, a smile like Dean had never seen on him before. When he spoke, he did so with as much strength as Dean had. 

“And I love you, Dean Winchester.”

And then they were kissing again, embracing, arms tight around each other. Cas rolled on top of Dean and they were both smiling through the kisses, relieved of all thoughts and worries of the heavenly and celestial, at least for now. There may have been nightmares about angels, and the ghosts of wings lost, and scars to remind of harder times, but there were also hickeys, and Poptarts, and honeybees, and _this._

The two of them rolled across the bed again, all loving touches and contented moans, until they reached the edge and toppled over it onto the floor. Castiel’s laugh echoed loudly throughout Dean’s bedroom, and Dean’s wasn’t long to join it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*cough* _My babe would never fret none, about what my hands and my body done... If the Lord don't forgive me, I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me. When I was kissing on my baby, and he put his love down soft and sweet... In the low lamp light I was free; Heaven and Hell were words to me._ )
> 
> HUGE THANK YOU to everyone who has read, left kudos for, and commented on this story. You're the reason it went on for as long as it did, I was not expecting to write this much. You are all so so great, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I hope those of you whose suggestions made it into this final chapter were happy with what I did with them. Trust me, I wanted to include more, but the chapter was already 30 pages in my Google drive... (!!!) Anyway, let me know what you thought of the end. :)
> 
> You guys are amazing, rock on. <3  
> -Camel
> 
> camwelgrace.tumblr.com


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